Unstoppable
by clarawithfitzsimmonsin221b
Summary: Anastasia and her twin sister Natalia have some dangerous secrets. They've spent years hiding, keeping out of sight. When S.H.I.E.L.D. catches wind of the girls they send in a very special extraction team. They just want to help the girls, but will their help expose everything that the girls have worked to keep hidden? *T for mild language and possible future chapters*
1. From Russia

Anastasia's feet pounded against the pavement as she ran. _Talia is gonna kill me, _she thought, tossing a glance over her shoulder at the group of guys chasing after her. She ducked into an alley and rolled into a hole in the wall, holding her breath as the boys ran past, cursing as they went. She slipped out and took off in the other direction until she reached a small shop. Anastasia went around to the back and up an old, narrow staircase. She grimaced when she heard a soft humming coming from behind the door. Bracing herself, she turned the handle and stepped inside the small apartment. At the sound of the door opening the girl who was humming spun around defensively. Her blond hair whipped around and her sharp green eyes were wary. When she saw Anastasia she relaxed, at least until she took in Anastasia's condition. Anastasia's blond hair was tangled and dirty and minor scratches crisscrossed her arms and legs. Her eyes were filled with apology.

"Stasia..." The other girl sighed.

"I'm sorry Talia, but-" Even as Anastasia started to defend herself, her twin cut her off.

"You said it wouldn't happen anymore Stasia. We both agreed not to live like that anymore." Talia, or rather Natalia, pursed her lips together disapprovingly.

"I can't just wave my hand and change the way we were raised Natalia!" snapped Anastasia. "It's not easy for me like it is for you!" She turned and stormed down the hall to the room they shared, slamming the door behind her.

A few hours later there was a slight tapping on the door. Anastasia was curled into a ball on her bed, tear streaks drying on her cheeks and sporting puffy red eyes.

"Stasia?" Natalia poked her head around the door. "мир?"_(peace?)_ Stasia looked up. _She never speaks in Russian anymore._

"Я не хочу говорить." _(I just want to talk)_said Natalia, closing the door behind her and coming over to Anastasia's bed with a plate of cookies.

"Затем," _(So talk)_ replied Anastasia, not bothering to move from her position on the bed.

"Я знаю, что вы думаете я использую из нашего прошлого; что я пытаюсь забыть," _(I know that you think that I'm running from our past; that I'm trying to forget) _began Natalia, "И вы правы. Я использую. Я использую потому что боюсь, Stasia. Боюсь, что они сможете нас найти еще раз. Боюсь силового они За нас. Я не хочу жить смотрит через плечо Stasia. Именно поэтому мы скрыть. Именно поэтому мы не показывать кому-либо какие они подготовку нам Не." _(And you're right. I'm running. I run because I'm afraid, Stasia. I'm afraid that they'll find us again. I don't want to live life looking over my shoulder, Stasia. That's why we hide. That's why we don't show anyone what they trained us to do, to be.) _Natalia set her head down in her hands, "Потому что боюсь Stasia." _(Because I'm afraid, Stasia.) _Anastasia finally pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around Natalia who had started to cry. Anastasia felt her own tears resurface and she simply clung to her twin, taking support a much as giving it. Softly, so only someone with hearing as good as Natalia's would hear, she whispered,

"Я слишком." _(I am too.)_

So for the next few weeks, Anastasia tried. She didn't pick fights and she kept her head low-as much as she could anyway. It was probably the longest she had gone without coming home to Natalia's disappointed look. They were both wondering how long it could last, and they were sure it wouldn't be for long. Sure enough, they were walking home from the store one evening when Anastasia saw something she simply couldn't walk away from. A young girl, about four or five maybe, was surrounded by menacing looking boys, cracking their knuckles and closing in on. Before Natalia could react Anastasia had shoved the groceries she was carrying into Talia's arms and taken off sprinting toward the girl. She ducked under the arm of the largest guy and stood protectively in front of the little girl, drawing her close to her side.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." She said calmly to the one who was clearly the leader. He looked at her with disbelief.

"I don't see why not." He sneered. Anastasia picked up the kid and whispered,

"When the fighting starts, I want you to run over to the girl who looks like me, okay? I'll be right behind you." The little girl nodded mutely, fear prominent in her big green eyes. Anastasia set her down just as the leader sent his first punch. The kid took off running while Anastasia caught the wrist of the leader and flipped him onto his back. The rest of the gang was paralyzed with shock, giving her the advantage. She elbowed the next guy in the gut and when he doubled over she kicked him in the head, knocking him out. She let the momentum from her kick push her into one of the guys from the other side that had recovered his senses and started for her. She head-butted his chin but he grabbed her around the waist, pinning her to his chest. She swung her legs up and wrapped her thighs around his head. She flipped him over, landing him on top of one of the guys who had been coming at her. _Two left, _she thought. She ducked under the first one's punch and gave a quick kick to sweep his legs out from under him. As he fell to the ground she reached behind her without even looking and grabbed the forearm of the last guy standing, who had even about to punch her. Using his own momentum she swung him up and down, hard, onto his fallen companion. Satisfied with the sickening crunch that she heard, Anastasia walked back over to her twin and the little girl. Natalia had set the groceries down and gathered the girl into her arms. Now that she could get a closer look, Anastasia could see that the girl's red hair was jaggedly cut and extremely knotted. She was very skinny and her shorts and t-shirt were ripped and dirty. _She lives on the street_, Anastasia realized. She reached the pair across the street and took the girl from Natalia, who started to retrieve the groceries from the sidewalk. When she stood, Anastasia was surprised to see that Talia's face was devoid of annoyance.

"Существует хорошая причина." _(There was a good reason.)_ said Natalia, slipping into their native tongue without a second thought. Anastasia nodded slowly and looked down at the small figure in her arms.

"What's your name sweetie?"

"Rani." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Is there anyone who takes care of you hon?" Natalia asked. Rani shook her head.

"All alone," she whispered, burying her face in Anastasia's neck.

"It's okay honey, shhh, it's alright." Anastasia felt Rani's tears wet her neck and rubbed comforting circles into the little girl's lower back. She sent Natalia a look. _We are so taking her home. _Natalia sort of sighed, but she knew that Anastasia was right. She nodded and grabbed the last bag from the ground.

"It's okay sweetheart," said Stasia soothingly, "we're gonna take care of you now." Rani looked up at her with tear filled eyes,

"Really?"

"Promise." Stasia pulled the little girl even closer to her as new tears spilled from Rani's eyes-tears of joy.

"Coulson." Agent Maria Hill glanced up as Phil Coulson walked by her desk on the helicarrier. "You should take a look at this." Coulson diverted his path so that he ended up standing in front of her computer monitor.

"Why am I watching a street standoff?" Coulson asked. He didn't see why a small girl being beaten up had relevance to S.H.I.E.L.D. Sure, it was horrible, but this should be something for the local PD, not a high level government agency.

"Just watch." Hill said. Out of nowhere an older girl with an agile, though slight, frame ran up and butted in. Coulson watched in amazement as the older girl rescued the little one and singlehandedly took down the entire squad of burly looking boys. Hill looked over at Coulson.

"I get it now," he said, "what happened next?" Hill tapped the mouse a couple of times and a different feed popped up. Coulson blinked, not quite sure what he saw.

"There's two?"

"Twins, from the look of it," confirmed Hill, "They're going by Angela and Naomi Smith but there's no guarantee that those are real names. We need you to put a team on this. A good one," she added as an afterthought. Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"Surely you or Fury have a team for this. Why do you need one of mine?" Hill had obviously been expecting this. She hit a few more keys and the camera zoomed in on one of the twins.

"We don't have audio, but we ran this through our lip reading software. Guess what she _isn't _speaking?"

"English." Coulson looked at Hill, "and your point is...?" Hill pulled up the lip reading results. Coulson nodded.

"I'll get some people on it."

"Not just _some people_ Phil," called Hill as Coulson walked away. She glanced back down at the computer screen before she closed the windows.

_Russian._

Anastasia looked at Rani who, as it turned out, was five. The little girl giggled as she played with the bubbles that Stasia had put in the bathtub. Natalia was in the next room over, making up their extra bed for Rani to sleep on. Anastasia rubbed some shampoo into Rani's hair. It really was a beautifully rich shade of red once you cleaned all the dirt out of it.

"Alright,малыш, time to get out." Rani made a pouty face but let Anastasia pull the plug out of the drain and rinse the last of the bubbles from her hair. Stasia gently toweled the little girl off, being extra careful around the bruises that Rani had from her time on the street. She slipped her into some old sweatpants and a tank top that the twins had managed to scrounge up, letting her short red hair hang in damp ringlets. She scooped Rani up, causing her to squeal with delight and carried her in to the small kitchen. Natalia had already cooked the hot dogs that they had picked up that afternoon and was in the process of cutting one up for Rani. She set the plate down in front of the five year old who smiled angelically.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome sweetheart," replied Talia, her heart melting as Rani dug into what was probably her best meal in a long time. Natalia passed Anastasia a hot dog, then grabbed one for herself and sat down.

"Так что же нам не нужно о ее?" _(So what are we gonna do about her?)_ asked Talia quietly.

"Мы можем смотреть после ее," _(We can look after her.)_ answered Stasia, "Не в первый раз мы приняли к кому-либо в соответствии с нашими крыла." (_It wouldn't be the first time we took someone under our wing.)_

"Это разные. Она очень молодые." _(This is different. She's very young.)_

"Мы можем сделать это," _(We can do it.)_ insisted Stasia. Rani looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Why are you talking funny?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. Natalia smiled.

"It's called Russian honey. It's a different language than English, but it's the language that Stasia and I learned first."

"Oh." Rani seemed satisfied with this and she returned to her hot dog. Talia turned back to Stasia and Stasia smiled, because she could already see Natalia giving in.

"Да, согласен. Мы предоставим его на дороге," _(Alright. We can give it a go.)_ consented Talia. Anastasia smiled, then eyed the clock.

"Alright, Принцесса, time for bed," Stasia stood up from the table and picked up Rani as Talia started to clear away the dishes.

"Awwwwwww," Rani frowned.

"C'mon sweetie, don't you want to see the comfy bed that Natalia made up just for you?" Rani brightened a little at that prospect.

"Okay," she decided, "night night Talia!"

"Good night sweetheart," Natalia stepped over and gave Rani a little hug, then Anastasia took her off to get ready for bed.

Coulson entered the training room to general chaos. _Not again,_ he thought exasperated, _how many times have we told them to leave the trainees alone?_ He watched as the recruits did their best to dodge deadly accurate arrows, although these were simply shot to pin their hair or clothes to the wall. Those that weren't eyeing the skies were warily watching the shadows, then jumping halfway to heaven when a silent red-haired assassin dropped from the support beams and took them by surprise. Coulson stepped forward.

"Alright! Practice is over! Agents dismissed." The recruits all headed off in the direction of the locker room.

"Not you Romanoff." Coulson glared at Natasha as she turned back around, a hint of guilt just barely visible on her face. Coulson looked up into the rafters. "Barton I know you're up there and you have two seconds to have your ass down here before I drop you from active field duty." A muscular figure dressed in all black swung down and landed in front of Coulson, wearing even less remorse on his face than Natasha. Coulson glowered angrily at both of them. "What have we told you about the recruits?"

"We were bored Coulson," Natasha said, "It's not our fault that we've been stuck here for three weeks without a mission." Clint nodded in agreement. Coulson rolled his eyes but let the matter drop.

"I want both of you in my office in ten. Looks like you've got that mission you want so much." He turned his back on the two assassins and walked out.

"Tell me again why you're sending us on a mission to pick up potential recruits?" asked Clint approximately 20 minutes later, "Isn't this like, level six stuff?" Natasha was flipping intently through the mission file, analyzing the two girls that constituted their main target.

"The level agent needed varies on the target," answered Coulson, "You know that Barton."

"Well yeah, but Nat and I haven't been on a recruitment mission since we hit level seven." Natasha gave him a look.

"What?!" demanded Clint, "it's true!"

"Isn't it obvious Clint?" Natasha smirked, "Maybe not to you, I suppose, although it should be."

"Well why are we on this mission then Miss Know-It-All?" Natasha flipped the file around and slid it over to Clint.

"At least one of the girls has been extensively trained, pretty close to S.H.I.E.L.D. level training from the looks of it. It's pretty safe to assume that if one of them is trained, the other one probably is as well. S.H.I.E.L.D. is sending us in because these two appeared out of nowhere two years ago and they speak Russian. Well." Natasha sat back in her chair and looked at Coulson for confirmation. He nodded.

"That's pretty much it. The address is there. I suggest that you at least try a diplomatic approach first, but that decision is yours to make." Coulson looked at both of them. "Be careful, you two. Dismissed." The two agents nodded to their handler and headed out the door.

Anastasia was sitting at the table while Natalia cooked pancakes when they heard the sound they never wanted to: a knocking at the door. They exchanged a glance, then Anastasia stood and opened the door. A man dressed in black pants and a sleeveless black shirt stood before them. He was wearing sunglasses and fingerless gloves.

"Miss Smith? My name is Agent Clint Barton, I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D. I wonder if I could have a word?" Anastasia glanced over her shoulder at Natalia. They both knew that they couldn't turn him away without looking guilty, so Anastasia stood back to let him into the apartment.

"We just have a few questions for you." Said the agent.

"Who is we?" inquired Anastasia.

"S.H.I.E.L.D." answered the agent, "the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Natalia and Anastasia froze at the word homeland.

"Вы думаете, что им известно?" _(Do you think they know?) _Anastasia asked Natalia, completely disregarding the presence of Agent Barton.

"Конечно, они знают, зачем же тогда бы они здесь?" _(Of course they know, why else would they be here?)_ hissed Natalia

"Как мы будем играть?"_(How do we play this?)_ Anastasia searched her memory, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

"Мы выкладывать, дайте ему играть." _(We just have to let it play out.)_ Natalia shot a glance at the agent who was looking at them curiously. "По крайней мере он не говорит по-русски."_(At least he doesn't speak Russian.)_

"Фактически, он не будет. Он только удивительно ужасного. К счастью, он меня захватывает его слабину." _(Actually, he does. He's just terribly awful at it. Luckily, he has me to pick up his slack.) _Both girls spun around as the unknown voice spoke into the room. They found themselves looking at a woman dressed in a black cat suit with short, wavy red hair and green eyes. They froze, eyes widening as they looked slowly at each other then back at the woman, ensuring that they were seeing the same thing. The woman took in their expressions and nodded.

"Вы знаете, кто я, разве нет? Я подумал, что это может быть, что способ." _(You know who I am, don't you? I thought it might turn out this way.)_ She nodded to the other agent, who had drawn a funny looking pistol while the girls' backs were turned. He calmly shot each of them with an ICER round and they crumpled to the ground.

"My Russian isn't that bad," complained Clint, slinging one twin over each shoulder.

"Пожалуйста. Это ужасно." _(Please. It's terrible.)_ Natasha snorted at Clint's confused face. "There you go, proving my point."

"Oh shut up Tasha," Clint scowled at her, "go get the little one." Natasha was gone for a few seconds, then returned holding a sleeping girl wrapped in a blanket. She reached up and tapped her earpiece.

"Alright Coulson we've got them. Send in the extraction team."


	2. With Love

**Thanks to everyone who's been reading this story...it's a little different than what I would normally write so I would love to hear what you think of it, good or bad. Reviews are much appreciated :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Anastasia opened her eyes to extremely dim light. She was lying on a comfortable bed in a small room. She rolled over and stretched, then pushed herself into a sitting position, taking stock of her injuries. _Nothing broken, _she concluded, _just a few bruises._ She slid off the bed and walked over to the door, reaching for the handle.

"I know that you don't actually expect that to work." Stasia whipped around and looked at the figure that she hadn't noticed before standing in the shadows. The redheaded woman from before was leaning against the wall. _Well this complicates things, _thought Anastasia_._ Calmly, Stasia turned from the door and settled herself cross-legged on the bed. She warily eyed the woman in silence.

"What, no snappy retort?" The woman raised her eyebrows. "That was the first thing I learned."

"Where's my sister?"

"All in good time," the woman wore a careful mask, "why don't we start with your real name?" Anastasia remained silent. As much as she hated that she knew it, she _did_ know how to handle interrogations.

"We're not going to hurt you. And I promise that whatever you're hiding from, we can protect you." Anastasia snorted but didn't answer the question. The woman flipped her hair back impatiently. Clearly this wasn't the way that she normally worked interrogations.

"You know, I was there," she nodded to the bed, "about ten years ago. I know I sure as hell didn't trust S.H.I.E.L.D. They sent an assassin to kill me. Their best one, in fact. I don't expect you to trust us either," she was still casually leaning against the wall, "In fact, I'm surprised you haven't tried to attack us yet. After all, we basically kidnapped you out of your apartment." If the agent was fazed by Anastasia's silence, she didn't show it. _I wonder why she's still alive if they set out to kill her,_ Stasia pondered the thought while keeping her face guardedly neutral. Out of nowhere, the woman smiled.

"Take it easy Barton." _She must be on comms_, realized Anastasia. The agent turned back to her.

"It seems that your sister just attempted to incapacitate my partner." She stepped forward, clasping her hands behind her back. "So what is it that is keeping you from doing the same to me?"

"I'm not as stupid as she is." Anastasia couldn't help but reply. The agent nodded.

"That's it then? Because I think there's something more to it." Anastasia lapsed back into silence. The woman was watching her closely, for all her casual stance, so she could see the slightest hint of fearful knowledge flit across the girl's face.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"You." Anastasia finally broke, her calm facade slipping. The agent's eyes hardened, but for some reason Anastasia didn't think the anger was directed at her.

"And who am I?" Her tone had cooled considerably.

"изменника,"_(the traitor)_ whispered Anastasia, curling in on herself defensively, a habit she had developed in stressful situations. She squeezed her eyes shut, prepared for the woman's anger to fly. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and peeked up. The woman hadn't moved an inch.

"I said we wouldn't hurt you ребёнок_ (child)_. I meant it. Are you going to tell me your name?" The ice had receded from the agent's voice and instead been replaced with some carefully controlled emotion, though Anastasia wasn't sure exactly what.

_What more damage can I do? _Thought Stasia hopelessly, _I already broke the rules_.

"Anastasia," she whispered. The woman nodded and left the room without a sound. Anastasia sagged, letting gravity take over and her tears soak the pillow.

* * *

Natasha shut the door behind her and leaned against the wall outside the room. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She knew exactly how close she had come to losing it in there. She had just laid her head back against the wall when her earpiece crackled with Coulson's voice.

"Romanoff, report." She pushed herself off the wall and made her way to central command. She walked through the automatic doors. Clint was already there, sitting on a table with ice on his right wrist. Natasha smirked, but didn't say anything.

"Well?" asked Coulson.

"Her name is Anastasia. She's approximately 16 or 17, didn't say. Judging by her muscle structure and toning she's had some fairly heavy training from a very young age. Her accent suggests that she grew up in Russia, but that she's been in the States for a minimum of four years, enough to water down the accent considerably. She has complete mastery of English but prefers to converse in Russian. Also, " Natasha paused for the first time and looked directly at Coulson, "her reflex when she first broke and divulged information was to curl up in a ball and cringe, expecting pain I believe." Coulson absorbed the influx of information. Natasha turned to Clint, "So, did you get anything useful before the girl broke your wrist Barton?"

"It's bruised, not broken." Clint glared at her before continuing, "the other one is mostly the same. Her accent is slightly more Americanized, but I don't think she's been in the States longer. They're too close for that. My best guess is that she speaks English more frequently than her sister. Based on what we've seen of their relationship dynamic I would guess that she was born first. Her name..." Clint hesitated for a second, "...is Natalia." Natasha's head snapped around.

"That's not possible."

"I know." Clint looked at her, at a loss. Coulson glanced back and forth between them.

"I get the feeling that I'm missing something here," their handler said, "either of you care to explain?"

"It's not possible for that girl's name to be Natalia because sixteen years ago the name was banned from Russian culture," Clint answered Coulson when it became apparent that Natasha wasn't going to. Coulson raised his eyebrows at Clint with a silent question, which Clint answered with a slight nod.

"So she's lying," Coulson reasoned.

"No, she's not." Natasha had started pacing now and both men followed her with their eyes. Clint could see the thoughts flying through her head, possible scenarios formulating.

"What is it Tasha?" He asked, concerned by the look on her face, "what didn't you tell us?" Natasha stopped pacing very suddenly.

"They know me. My face, at least."

"How do you know that?" Asked Coulson quietly after he recovered from his shock.

"She was afraid, that's why she didn't attack me, the way the other one attached Clint," she swallowed dryly, "she called me изменника." Clint's Russian was good enough for that one. He stood and pulled Natasha against him supportively. He could see the anguish bubbling under her skin, no matter how well she concealed it.

"So we're dealing with the Red Room then?" Natasha was already shaking her head before Coulson finished his question.

"No child from the Red Room would be named Natalia," explained Clint as Natasha resumed her pacing, "They would be the last ones to defy the government."

"Not just that," said Natasha, "they're too young. Based on their current age, they would have arrived in the US around age 13. It would have taken them a minimum of one year, probably closer to two, to get out of the program and make it across the Atlantic, meaning that they would have had to leave the Red Room at age 11, at best," she shook her head, "it's not possible."

"So where are they from?" demanded Coulson. Clint sort of shrugged, and both of them looked at Natasha.

"Rebels," she answered, "their parents were probably rebels."

"But why would rebels consider you a traitor?" Clint asked confusedly, "I mean, wasn't it good for them that you abandoned the Widow program?"

"I'm not a traitor to them because I ditched the Widow program." Natasha spoke softly, hesitantly, as she always did when talking about her past, "It's because I forsook Russia." Clint's eyes darkened, his whole demeanor changing. Natasha looked back up at Coulson who sighed, "So their parents were rebels...what does that mean for us and, more importantly, them?"

"Depends," said Clint, already standing and slinging his bow over his shoulder.

"On what?" Coulson asked.

"On whether or not they know what they're hiding," said Natasha grimly. The two agents turned and left the office without another word.

* * *

Anastasia looked up from her pillow when the door opened, sending a strip of bright light across the bed. She expected to see the woman, back to torture her or something, but instead there was a young man in a nice suit.

"Please come with me, miss," he said politely, holding the door open for her. She rose hollowly and walked woodenly to the door. The man guided her down a series of hallways, including many complicated twists and turns. He finally stopped outside of one door, seemingly identical to every other one they had passed. He tapped quickly and the door swung open. He ushered Anastasia inside. When she saw who was sitting at the table she stood shocked for a moment.

"Talia!" She cried, running and throwing her arms around her sister. She barely even registered her guide stepping out and shutting the door.

"Stasia," Talia's voice was more of a sigh of muffled relief against her sister's shoulder. She pulled back after a second and gave Stasia a look up and down.

"Are you alright? Did they...do anything to you?" Anastasia shook her head,

"Just...talked. And you?" Her eyes searched Talia's face.

"No," Talia breathed out, tension fading from her muscles.

"Do we know who they are?" Asked Anastasia quietly.

"We told you," a man's voice said as the door opened, "we are S.H.I.E.L.D." The two agents who had been in their apartment entered the room. The girls went rigid.

"I think we all got off on the wrong foot," said the man, "although to be fair, that was your doing, not ours."

"We aren't the ones who burst into your apartment," muttered Natalia.

"Technically, you let us in," said the man.

"No," said Anastasia, "we let _you_ in; she broke in." The woman shrugged at the accusation.

"It was necessary," she said, "he really can't speak Russian."

"Not helping, Nat," the man glared at the woman, "speaking of which, I believe some introductions are in order. I'm Agent Clint Barton and this is my partner-"

"Наталия Зобков," (_Natalia Romanova) _whispered the twins in unison. Clint froze mid-sentence and looked cautiously at Natasha. He personally knew both the agents that had ended up in medical for calling Natasha by her former name and neither of them had been very active for quite a while afterwards.

"I don't use that name anymore," Natasha's face was stone. She didn't appear angry, but Clint knew better. He knew that a motionless Natasha was much more dangerous than a moving one. He set a hand on her shoulder and drew her attention to him. Their eyes met for a moment, then he felt her relax under his grip. She turned back to the girls, "My name is Natasha Romanoff." She saw tension building in both of the girls, "but I am still the one you were taught about. I think the name you're looking for is the Black Widow." She did her best to keep her tone neutral, but it was hard, especially when the girls stepped back from the two agents, pressing themselves against the wall.

"Well now that that's out of the way," muttered Clint, "let's talk."

"You should know," added Natasha, "that we were serious when we said we just wanted to ask a few questions. The only reason we brought you in the way we did was because of your little conversation in the kitchen." Natalia and Anastasia looked at each other.

"Why did you want to talk to us?" Anastasia pulled herself off of the wall cautiously as she asked her question, warily eyeing both agents.

"Because of her," answered Clint, flipping a folder over to them. Anastasia caught it and opened to see a picture of Rani staring up at her.

"Actually, it's more about how she came to be with you," said Natasha before either of the girls could react.

"Where is she?" Asked Natalia.

"Safe," answered Clint, " and you're not in trouble for saving her, because we know what was going to happen if you hadn't." The twins raised their eyebrows.

"Security cameras," Natasha raised a single eyebrow at them, " how do you think we found you?"

"So why are we in trouble then?" Anastasia asked the obvious question.

"You're not," Natasha gave them the one answer they weren't expecting.

"...Yet," added Clint, exchanging a look with Natasha. Natalia stopped whatever they had been planning to say.

"Can we back up a second? Cause I'm still not entirely sure why we're here if we aren't in trouble,"

"We were going to offer you a position," Clint gave up and went with bluntness, speaking directly to Anastasia, "based off of what we saw on the video feed, you could be cleared for active field duty in a matter of months." The twins locked eyes, neither wanting to think about what that meant. _Of course that's what they wanted, _thought Anastasia bitterly. The exchange lasted less than a second, but Natasha and Clint weren't considered S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best for no reason; both caught the terror in the girls' eyes and the defensive walls that went up immediately after it. The partners traded their own looks but continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Assuming our analysis was correct," Natasha said, looking at Natalia, "we would have been offering you a position as well."

"Analysis?" Anastasia jumped on the two agents before Natalia could get a word out. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"We said that you weren't in trouble. The time you two spent in those rooms wasn't for interrogation. It was so we could learn about you, make some observations and draw our own conclusions."

"Assuming your analysis told you that I fight like Stasia, then yes you would have been offering me a position," said Natalia, "but for some reason, you aren't offering to either of us anymore. Why?"

"We hit a snag," said Clint.

"Two snags, actually," said Natasha. She looked Natalia dead in the eye, "one of them is you."

"The other one," said Clint, "is the content of your discussion in the apartment this morning."

"What about me?" Asked Natalia quietly, looking as if she already knew the answer.

"Your name," said Natasha simply. Talia nodded.

"So," Clint looked between his partner and the two girls, "basically, you can tell us what's up with the two of you and we offer you a position once you're cleared,"

"Or we can force the information out of you and you spend some quality time in the less pleasant parts of S.H.I.E.L.D.," finished Natasha.

"Well that's one hell of a choice," muttered Stasia. Natasha smirked. The girls exchanged a look but they both knew that there was really no choice here. They stepped forward and sat in the chairs across from Clint and Natasha, dropping their defensive attitudes in a sign of defeat.

"Good choice," said Clint.

"Start talking," Natasha wasn't going to let them off the hook just because they gave in and the guardedness of her eyes proved that. The sisters looked at each other, not quite sure what to say. _Where do we even begin this story? _Anastasia asked her sister with her eyes. _Let's try the beginning,_ Talia answered . Clint and Natasha didn't miss this exchange either. They had had enough silent conversations while on missions, in debrief, and in private to recognize when one was happening in front of them. They also knew that to be able to have such a conversation you needed to be with the other person practically 24/7 or you wouldn't be able to read the details in their expression. Natalia began their story.

"My sister and I were born in Russia. By the time we were born our parents were part of a rebel group that had been rooted in Moscow for decades," she took a breath, steeling herself for what she had to say next, "Prior to meeting our father and joining the rebel cause, our mother worked for the Red Room." Natalia avoided the gaze from Natasha that she could feel burning a hole in her scalp as she stared at the floor. The silence in the room was deafening. Natalia took a breath and forced herself to continue speaking, "She knew about the Black Widow program of course, and she was one of the most important people to the rebel cause because of it." She stopped and looked up. She saw that Agent Barton had a hand resting on the Widow's arm again. The Widow was looking at him, her eyes searching his, looking for support. Natalia frowned slightly to herself. _The Widow doesn't trust anyone, ever,_ she thought, _and she never needs support. Who _is_ this Agent Barton?_

"You see," Anastasia picked up the story, "they believed the best way to tear down the government was to take out their latest weapon." She paused to let that sink in, "but it turned out that they didn't have to." Natasha tensed, knowing what was going to happen next in their timeline.

"Mother was 8 months pregnant when our parents heard that the Black Widow had somehow escaped the control of the Red Room," said Natalia, "They, along with the other rebel leaders, believed that the Widow would come to one of the rebel groups seeking refuge from her handlers."

"Our mother was in the hospital , going into labor, when our father brought her the news," Anastasia looked up at Natasha, "The Black Widow had fled to America, had become a contract killer. He said she was still a puppet, she simply answered to different masters now. He said that she abandoned the Russian people to the same hell they had been in for their entire lives." Natasha was careful to keep her face neutral, but inside she was boiling_. They know nothing, _she thought murderously. Clint's grip on her arm tightened and she mentally shook herself. _Pull it together Romanoff. This isn't the first time this has come up. _ She forced herself to listen to the rest of the story. Anastasia was still speaking when Natasha refocused.

"...because our parents didn't know they were having twins."

"And Russia," said Natalia bitterly, "doesn't see the purpose of having two of the same person."

"So our parents pretended that they had a single daughter and they hid the other one," said Stasia, now looking at Natalia, "In an act of defiance, they named her Natalia."

"But not just defiance," Natalia's eyes bore into Clint and Natasha, "The rebels had a plan for me the minute they found out about me. A child that doesn't exist, that the government doesn't know about? They wanted to make me into their own personal Black Widow, down to the name. The rebels would kill for that asset. Turns out they didn't have to," she finished darkly. Natasha was frozen and Agent Barton motioned for the twins to stop for a moment.

"Tasha," he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him, "Tasha, look at me." Her eyes found his face, showing him an infinity of agony, a past that he might never understand.

"It was supposed to stop," whispered Natasha, "I left, I took their hopes with me, I burned them so completely they were never going to come back, they could never haunt anyone's nights the way they haunt mine-"

"Stop it Tasha," Clint grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look into his eyes, "this is not your fault. You can't stop an idea Nat. There will always be someone out there who tries to revive what you destroy. You didn't do this." Natasha just looked at him not responding. Clint knew things were already way past bad when his partner lost control in the middle of an interrogation, so he did the only thing he could do.

"Natasha, I will tell Coulson that you can't handle this if you don't snap out of it." Natasha whipped her head around,

"You wouldn't."

"I would," Clint was deadly serious. Natasha burned him with her fiery glare but found herself matched by his icy determination. She sighed, and nodded, consenting. The team turned back to the girls and Agent Barton motioned for them to continue their story.

"So they started training Talia," Anastasia picked up the story, gently rubbing her sister's arm, "before she could even walk or talk. They were sure that the Red Room would create another Widow and they wanted to be able to fight back."

"Wait a second," Agent Barton spoke to the girls for the first time during their story, looking at Anastasia, "if Natalia was the one being trained, then where did you learn to fight?"

"A compromise," answered Anastasia, "you see, while Talia was being molded into a weapon, I was leading a normal life as the only daughter of my parents, going to school and birthday parties and such. Talia didn't get any of that-not even school."

"So we made a deal that she would teach me whatever she learned at school and in exchange I would teach her how to fight," said Natalia, "Our parents didn't care; they would have taught Stasia to fight eventually anyway, it was just a bit earlier than they had planned." Anastasia nodded,

"And someone had to teach Talia basic stuff like math and writing and both our parents had jobs so that pretty much left me," Anastasia shrugged, as if it was perfectly normal that she had half raised her twin sister. Natasha looked at Clint and asked the inevitable question,

"What went wrong?"


	3. No Pain

Natalia opened her mouth to speak when she felt Anastasia squeeze her hand and saw her shake her head. Talia stopped and Stasia started to speak instead.

"Things were relatively fine for a long time," she began, "somehow, we kept Talia a secret and we both lived our lopsided lives as happily as we could." She shook her head slightly, then said, "It fell apart when we were eleven. I came home from school that afternoon really excited because we were doing a poetry unit in class and Talia loved poetry. But when I walked in to our house…" she winced and looked down, swallowing, "…there were two men lying on the floor, dead." Stasia looked up at the two agents expecting to see expressions of horror and disgust. Instead she found looks of grim understanding. _What can they have possibly been through to look like that?_ She wondered, but she didn't have time to linger over the thought. "I was shocked, but not wholly surprised. Our parents had been preparing us for things like this since we were born. I knew not to scream. Screaming brought people and people asked questions. So I did the only thing that I could do. I ran to Talia's room. I expected to see her going to pieces or crying, but she was totally calm. She was just sitting on her bed, flipping through this old magazine." Stasia looked over at Natalia who was gripping the edge of the table tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Both of the agents had noted that fact as well. Anastasia started to speak again, but Natalia cut her off.

"We could both hear our parents through the wall," she whispered, "they were yelling at each other. They had been fighting for a long time now, ever since мама first gave me a weapon. Папа didn't want that…" she sort of trailed off, lost in terrible memories. Natasha could see her own story being replayed right in front of her eyes, there watching Natalia. Softly she said,

"What did they say?" Natalia looked at her with haunted eyes.

"Вы обещали он никогда бы в том, что она не будет ... оружия! _(You promised that it wouldn't go this far, that she wouldn't be a…a weapon!)_

Вы сумасшедший Дмитрий. Что вы думаете она будет, защитник? Мы даже назвал ее Наталья. Что вас случайно, что я выбрал это имя? _(You're a fool Dmitry. What did you think she was going to be, a defender? We even named her Natalia. Did you think it an accident that I chose that name?)_

Это неправильно Алена. Вы ее? Спокойной, если она просто связали ее башмак или что-то, когда она унесла жизни двух человек. Не роняйте раскаяния. Он не прав и вы не хотите, чтобы на нашу дочь. _(This is wrong Alena. Did you see her? As calm as if she just tied her shoe or something, when she took the lives of two men. Not a drop of remorse. It's not human. You shouldn't want this for our daughter.)_

У меня есть только одна дочь." _(I only have one daughter)_ Tears were pouring down Natalia's face as she choked out the last words. Anastasia pulled her sister close to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace and holding her together as sobs tore her body apart. Clint was staring pointedly at Natasha, waiting for her to translate the Russian for him, but she waved him off.

"Our father lost it at that," said Anastasia quietly, stroking Talia's hair soothingly, "He screamed at our mother and she just…walked out of the house. I thought that that was the end of it, that we would be okay, but I guess Папа knew better, knew that мама and the other leaders weren't willing to just let their main investment walk away, not when they had just seen how well she worked. He came into Talia's room and he told us to pack a small backpack each, with just enough essentials to get by."

"He smuggled you out," Natasha wasn't asking a question, but Anastasia nodded anyway.

"Where is he then?" Natasha shot Clint a how-can-you-be-that-dense look and was about to berate him but Natalia beat her to the punch.

"She said he smuggled _us_ out, not himself."

"He sacrificed himself to get us out," Anastasia spoke with a pain-filled voice.

"We don't even know if he's still alive," whispered Talia.

"The last thing he said to us was to take care of each other, and not to forget," It was Anastasia's turn to break down and the sight of the girls who had been so resilient at the beginning reduced to puddles of tears was the breaking point for Natasha.

"That's enough," She was deadly serious and Clint knew better than to argue when she used that tone. They both left the girls in the room and went out into the hallway.

* * *

"Well?" asked Clint quietly.

"I'm pretty sure you already know what I think," answered Natasha, matching his volume.

"I dunno Nat..." Clint looked doubtful. Natasha read what he was thinking in his eyes.

"They're not lying Clint," she said firmly, "trust me."

"I do," Clint said softly, "let's go talk to Coulson."

* * *

Coulson was waiting for them when they arrived back at central command. He took one look at Natasha's face and said,

"So they're cleared then?"

"If they were sent here for a reason, they don't know what it is," Clint informed him.

"Honestly sir, I don't think they were sent here with a purpose," interjected Natasha, "I think their father made a different call." She chose those words purposefully, knowing the effect they would have and she was right. Clint froze and gave her a stunned look, but she was determinately holding Coulson's gaze. Coulson nodded.

"Duly noted, Agent Romanoff. You are both dismissed, but please remain on base." Natasha raised an eyebrow at Coulson and Clint gave him a look. Coulson sighed.

"Sorry guys, Fury ordered that you both be kept on hand and that means no leaving base." The two agents rolled their eyes and nodded assent, turning to leave.

"And for love of Steve Rodgers stay AWAY from the trainees!" Coulson called after them. Nat grinned at Clint and the pair of them took off in a sprint toward the training room.

* * *

Coulson knocked on the door to Fury's office.

"Enter!" came the gruff response of the director. Coulson stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He wasn't carrying any kind of report-he hadn't bothered Romanoff or Barton with that. He trusted both of their judgments' and knew that the go ahead by Strike Team Delta, especially the Russian half of that team, would be good enough for Fury.

"Make it snappy Coulson, I have to go meet with the damn Council in five minutes." Fury was standing with his back to the door, hands clasped behind his back, staring out the ceiling-to-floor windows in his office.

"It's about the twins that were brought in earlier sir."

"What about them?"

"They've been cleared, sir." Fury turned around from the window.

"By who?"

"Barton and Romanoff, sir." Fury nodded.

"Good. Then our arrangement can proceed. Inform the agents _first_ and have them go in to talk to the girls."

"Understood sir." Fury turned back to the window and Coulson headed for the door.

"Oh, and Coulson?" Coulson turned back toward the director.

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep them away from the other recruits." Coulson smiled.

"The agents or the girls, sir?" Fury snorted and waved Coulson out, turning back to the window. Coulson grinned and made his way to the elevator.

* * *

Coulson fully expected the training room to be in shambles when he finally made his way down to it, but was surprised to see the newest batch of recruits clustered just inside the door, looking like they were watching a movie. A few more steps told Coulson why and he sighed internally. _We just can't win. _Barton and Romanoff had taken over the training room, although in all fairness they _were_ using it for a training exercise. Coulson supposed the recruits had never seen one-on-one combat executed the way that Barton and Romanoff did it. They had obviously been at it for a while, judging by the knives and arrows that had lodged themselves into the walls. At the moment the pair was in the middle of the floor. Clint swiped at Nat with his bow which she easily dodged. She sent a retaliatory kick at his legs only to find him gone, shot up into the rafters on his grappling hook arrow. She shot her own grappling hook and was up quick enough to catch him off balance. She kicked him with both feet, sending him over the edge of the beam. Clint, still attached to his grappling hook, swung a full 360 and landed deftly behind Natasha. They both balanced easily on the narrow surface, throwing and blocking kicks and punches in a well-known dance. They had plenty of practice with this type of fighting and it was perfectly comfortable for both of them. Clint ducked under one of Nat's kicks aimed for his chest.

"Coulson's down there," he said.

"I know," Natasha grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm. Clint grabbed her leg with his free hand and threw her into the air. She spun easily and landed behind him, locking her arms around his neck.

"Think we should talk to him?" asked Clint, rolling into a somersault and coming out of it with Nat pinned beneath his knees.

"Probably," Natasha wrapped her thighs around Clint and pulled him off of her. She back flipped off the rafter and landed in front of Coulson, Clint barely a second behind her.

"News for us, sir?" asked Barton.

"You have a new assignment," said Coulson, not even batting an eye at the sudden appearance of his agents.

"Where to?" Natasha asked.

"Nowhere," both agents frowned at Coulson's answer, "I said assignment, not mission," he explained, "you've both been put on a specialized training detail." Natasha was the first to process out what that meant.

"Fury approved the twins," she said, "and he wants _us _to train them?"

"Fury's spent the last however many years trying to hide us from the recruits," said Clint, "Why the change of heart?"

"These aren't any old recruits Barton," said Coulson, "We feel that given the circumstance of their recruitment and their unique situation the pair of you would make the best mentors." Natasha snorted.

"Больше никто не говорит о недостаточно хорошем Русском и близнецов."_(More like no one else speaks good enough Russian to keep up with what the girls might say)_ Coulson shot her a glare and she smiled angelically.

"You still need to talk to the girls and see if they're on board. Get on that."

"Right away, sir." Barton spoke for the pair of them. Coulson nodded, satisfied, and left the training room. Clint and Natasha started out the door.

"Well go on, back to work!" Natasha snapped at the recruits who were still huddled by the door. The jumps and scared looks caused enough laughter to carry the two agents down the hall.

* * *

Ten minutes later they were standing outside the door to Anastasia and Natalia's room, Natasha in blue jeans and a black hoodie and Clint in black jeans and a white t-shirt. With a nod from her partner, Natasha pushed open the door and the pair reentered the room. The twins had evidently cried themselves out because they were dry eyed and composed, sitting behind the table where Clint and Natasha had left them.

"So what's the verdict?" Asked Natalia, looking somber, as if she expected to be kept in S.H.I.E.L.D. by force.

"You've been cleared," Clint told them. Identical expressions of surprise flashed across the girls' faces.

"So does that mean..." Anastasia let her question hang unfinished. Natasha nodded.

"We've been authorized to offer you a position here at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Define position," countered Natalia.

"You'll spend an undetermined period of time training. Once your mentor clears you from training you advance to active duty and can be sent on missions with a level one clearance. The more missions you complete, coupled with your skill level determines how quickly your clearance level increases." Clint gave them a basic summary of early S.H.I.E.L.D. life.

"How many together in a training group?" inquired Anastasia. Clint and Natasha shared a glance.

"Normally anywhere between twenty and thirty," answered Natasha, " but," she held up a hand to stop Natalia interjecting, "Director Fury has made different arrangements for the pair of you should you choose to accept the offer."

"You will be trained individually, sort of," said Clint in response to the girls' questioning looks, "that is, you two will be trained together, separate from the other new recruits." Anastasia nodded, but Natalia looked wary of the proposal.

"Who's going to be training us?" Natasha and Clint exchanged another look, then Natasha responded slowly,

"Agent Barton and myself have been assigned to your training." She had thought that she was ready for the looks she was going to get when they found that out, but the anxiety that filled their eyes still stabbed her like a cold knife. She met their gaze coolly, but Clint had apparently had enough.

"Look you two," he growled at them, "I don't know what sort of shit they told you about Natalia Romanova back in Russia, but you need to get something straight. This," he gestured to his partner, "is Natasha Romanoff and she has been through hell and back to prove her loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. She isn't going to kill you and by god you should consider a privilege that Fury is taking her off active duty for you because she is the best damn agent we have!" Clint broke off his angry rant, breathing hard. Natasha set a hand on his arm.

"Clint," she said softly, "it's okay. It's not their fault." Clint glared at her, then sighed and set his head in his hands.

"I know Tasha." The twins watched the exchange curiously, both thinking similar thoughts: _No way these two are just partners. _The girls glanced at each other. Stasia raised a brow at her sister. _How do you think he got this close to the Black Widow? _Talia frowned and shrugged. _Maybe she really _is _different. _Anastasia sent Natalia a knowing look. _Only one way to find out. _With a sigh of defeat, Talia nodded. _What the hell. Let's join S.H.I.E.L.D. _Natasha managed to calm Clint down and they both looked up. The twins shared a final glance, then spoke as one.

"We're in."

* * *

The rumors ran through S.H.I.E.L.D. like wildfire that night and the next morning. _Barton and Romanoff have protégées, _whispered agents to each other, _wonder what's so special about these two. _So it was no surprise to Clint or Natasha that the training room was overly crowded when they arrived the next morning. _We don't have time to deal with this, _Clint thought at Natasha. _I got it, _she thought back, stepping up calmly. She pulled a knife from one of her thigh straps and flipped it in the air, catching it easily. Clint grinned, understanding her intent. He swung his bow off of his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Natasha whipped her arm back lightning fast and sent her knife spinning through the air toward the ceiling. Barton drew his bow with equal speed and shot the knife out if the sky before it hit its intended target. The pair of them began a practiced routine of this, Natasha spinning and throwing her knives at each of the targets positioned around the room and Clint shooting them down before they landed. It didn't take long for the crowd that was milling about the training room to get the meaning behind the numerous projectiles flying past their heads. Reluctantly, the mob dissipated, leaving Clint and Natasha alone. Clint glanced toward the door and back at Natasha who was still calmly throwing knives at a target. She spoke mid-windup, without even looking at the door.

"You aren't going to get a productive training from out there." Anastasia and Natalia stepped through the open doorway. Natasha grabbed her knives from the target and tucked them in their various hidden locations on her person. She and Clint came to stand in front of their new trainees. They were dressed identically in black shorts with white accents and white tank tops. They had both tied their hair back in high ponytails and were wearing gray sneakers. Their mentors both mentally grinned. The girls probably thought they were clever and that they would be difficult to tell apart, which would probably have been true, for anyone other than Barton and Romanoff. Clint got straight to the point.

"Alright we're gonna start off with some basic evaluations. We need to determine your skill level and we want to see how you work individually compared to how you work in a team." The girls nodded.

"Where do we start?" asked Anastasia.

"Wherever you like," said Natasha, who had gone back to her knives. Clint shrugged, then turned his back on the girls, picked up his bow, and stepped up to the firing line. The twins looked at each other, rather bewildered. Natalia recovered quickly and didn't hesitate any longer in choosing her starting point-she was all too familiar with training facilities like these, although she would admit that S.H.I.E.L.D. was slightly better equipped than what she was used to. She went straight to the punching bags, preferring to work with simply her limbs. Both Natasha and Clint were watching her, for all that they appeared to be absorbed in their own activities, and they knew what her decision meant. The type of person that was trained to trust only their own body for a mission was specific. Both of the agents was trying not to think about what that meant the sixteen year old girl in front of them had been raised for. Stasia took a bit longer, considering her options. _That only makes sense, _thought Natasha, _she wasn't raised to treat decisions as life or death matters. She might be physically trained, but mentally she's a complete novice. _Eventually, Anastasia's gaze landed on one of the lesser used items in the training room. She braced herself against the floor where she was standing, then pushed off in a wickedly fast sprint. She bent her knees and sprung up at just the right moment to catch the ropes that were dangling from the rafters. Clint barely glanced up as he loosed his next shot, but the bit that he did see was enough-she was good. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she twirled and twisted in the realm above their heads. She didn't bat an eye as she let go of one rope and flew toward a different one, didn't even flinch when she caught the rope between her legs and was holding herself up by the sheer strength of her thighs. _Damn, _Clint shook himself mentally and refocused on his shooting, _I haven't seen anyone do that on the ropes since Tasha. _He looked over at Natasha to see if she had noticed Anastasia, but she was too busy watching Natalia and with one glance Clint could see why. _Shit, _he thought, slinging his bow over his shoulder and moving over to stand next to Natasha. Natalia was performing a simple training routine, one had Clint had seen done many times-by Natasha. It didn't take a genius to put together why they both had an identical training regimen. Clint took the knife from Natasha's shaking hand and put his hands on her arms.

"Tasha," he said quietly, forcing her to look at him, "you said you could handle it."

"I can, Barton," she answered, looking away from his face, "let me deal with this."

"It's not something you can change Tasha. She is what she is and _it's not your fault_."

"I know Clint!" she snapped, jerking herself out of his grasp, "But if she 'is what she is', then she is like me and dammit Clint that is _not _a good thing! She doesn't need to be like me. It will drive her mad!"

* * *

Anastasia looked down at their mentors, catching snippets of their conversation.

"Talia," she called softly, nodding toward the two agents. Natalia stopped mid-punch and looked over. She turned back to Stasia who jerked her head, inviting her sister to join her in the rafters. Talia deftly launched herself into the air and clambered up to her sister's perch.

"Look at her," Stasia marveled, "she's so emotional."

"Only with him," replied Natalia, "she's different when other people are around."

"Yeah, I've noticed," said Anastasia, "she's more like the Black Widow then."

"I wonder what makes him so special," Natalia pondered, "how do you gain the trust of the Black Widow?"

"Maybe he was the reason she joined S.H.I.E.L.D." Anastasia voiced her current speculation, "I mean, wouldn't it make sense to have her partnered with whoever recruited her?"

"Except if he recruited her, that means that he was one of the ones sent to kill her and he didn't. That means he would have some sort of personal connection with her. That would make a dangerous partnership." Natalia gazed down at the couple on the floor, "Then again…" Anastasia smirked.

"My point exactly. I'm surprised you didn't pick that up first."

"There's a lot of unresolved tension between them," said Natalia defensively, "It's hard to distinguish sometimes." Both of the twins turned their attention back to the two agents in question.

* * *

Frustration simmered in Clint's eyes. Part of him understood why Natasha couldn't distance herself from these girls, but the other part wanted to just shake her until she saw sense. There was a look in her eyes now that he was all too familiar with, one that told him he wasn't going to be able to help her right now-not that he wouldn't try under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, these weren't normal circumstances. He looked up to the rafters where the girls had stopped their training and were sitting with their heads leaned together, whispering to each other. He ground his teeth together angrily. _I don't have time to deal with all of this right now._

"Oi! You two! Did we say you could have a break?" The twins jumped guiltily and each slid down a rope, heading back to the training equipment. He turned back to his partner.

"Take a walk, Nat. Come back when you're able to do our job." He released his grip on her and she stormed angrily out the door. Clint sighed. _I don't get paid enough for this._

* * *

**So quick question for all my lovely readers: would you like some more specifics about Anastasia and Natalia's training or should I just accelerate past that bit? I could definitely go either way and I'm not entirely sure what to do, so let me know what you would rather see! Thanks for reading, all you wonderful people. ****J**


	4. No Gain

Trainees and agents jumped out of Natasha's path as she raced down the hall. Many of them had learned the hard way not to get in the way of an angry Black Widow. She punched her way down the hall and through the door to a small closet she had made her own personal space. She threw herself at the punching bag, a scream finally ripping through her clenched teeth. She poured out the frustration and guilt that had built up inside of her since they first brought the girls in. Natasha let her muscles take over, every kick and punch that she had ever committed to memory, that she had ever used to take out a target, they all steamed out of her in a passionate rage.

"Natasha." She whipped around without hesitation, about to sock the speaker in the jaw, but she stopped mid-punch when she saw who it was.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me Coulson."

"I'm more concerned with the fact that I was able to sneak up on you," said her handler, worry creasing his face.

"You weren't," muttered Natasha, spinning away from the door, "but that doesn't mean you weren't trying." She walked over and picked up a knife, casually tossing in straight into the center of her wooden target.

"You can't walk away from them, Natasha." As usual, Coulson knew exactly what was going through her head.

"Why not? It's not like they want to work with me." She held her voice deceptively steady and threw another knife at the target.

"They don't know _you _yet; they only know what they've been told." Coulson took a few steps closer, "and as you so wisely old Barton, that isn't their fault."

"It might not be their fault, but it is how they are," countered Natasha.

"You're the only one who can help them change Natasha. Barton can try all he wants, but-"

"They aren't going to change, Coulson! People who are raised the way those girls were, trained to be a certain way, those people never change!" Natasha's final knife collided with the target with enough force to knock it over. For a moment, only the sound of Natasha's heavy breathing filled the room. Coulson turned for the door, then paused and said,

"You know, they told that to Barton too, in the beginning." Natasha's breath cut off and she froze in place. Coulson nodded to himself and left her alone.

* * *

Clint took a moment to pull himself together after Natasha left. He mentally shook himself, then turned to face the girls. They were both working quietly with the weights, tossing them back and forth between each other in a balanced exercise.

"Alright, let's try something," Clint led the girls over to a door.

"This is a simulation room," he told them, "basically, it gives you a scenario, usually violent, and you have to fight your way out of it to end the simulation." The girls nodded. It was high tech, not something they had ever seen before, but it seemed easy enough to understand.

"Do we run this together or separate?" Asked Anastasia.

"Both," answered Clint, "so who wants to start?" Natalia looked at her sister.

"I will," she said.

"Good." Clint opened the door for her.

"Do I get any weapons or anything?"

"Everything you need is in there," said Clint. Natalia shrugged and walked into the room without a second thought. Clint looked over at Anastasia.

"You keep on with some basic training until she finishes," he told her. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I don't get to watch?"

"Not allowed to. Only trainers and handlers can watch a simulation."

"Why?" Clint shrugged.

"Protocol." Stasia snorted at that and Clint hid a smile as she turned away. _I'm gonna get along just fine with that one._ He took his place in the observation booth and started Natalia's simulation. The environment that sprang into being around her looked vaguely familiar and when Clint processed why he internally groaned. _Thank god Tasha isn't here. _He hadn't been present for Natasha's first simulation, the one they had used to test her, but she had told him about it. It was a fairly simple solve; all you had to do was disable the bomb, grab the gun, and shoot the guards. Natasha had solved her simulation in a rather unconventional way and if Clint was right, Natalia was about to do the same thing. He watched her grab a knife and quickly slice three wires, no hesitation. Four guards ran into the room as soon as the beeping stopped and started for Natalia. Without turning around she fired the knife she was holding into one man's gut, successfully taking him out. She pushed up with her legs and wrapped her arms around the ceiling beam. The second guard rushed her and she clamped his neck between her legs, snapping it in a single motion. She threw his dead weight at the third guard, knocking him down. She jumped over him for the moment, rolling into a somersault. She arched her back and kicked the last guard square in the jaw. He went down and stayed there. Natalia reached behind her head and grabbed the wrist of the man about to punch her and she flipped him on his back. As soon as he was immobilized the lights in the simulation room lifted. Clint sighed and shook his head. _Damn Russians. What is so difficult about using the gun?_

* * *

Anastasia watched Agent Barton come out of the observation booth from her vantage point on the ropes. Natalia emerged from the simulation room glistening with sweat. Agent Barton motioned for Stasia to come down and she descended quickly to the floor. Natalia flashed her a grin before heading in the direction of the knives. Agent Barton didn't say a word, just held the door open. With her ponytail swinging behind her, Anastasia entered the simulation.

She found herself standing on a cliff, overlooking a city. Lying by the edge of the cliff were two weapons. Stasia cast her eye over the city, quickly processing what she was supposed to do. She grabbed the sniper rifle from the ground and settled herself into the prone position. She took careful aim at the only window in the tallest skyscraper that was lit up. A man stood in front of the window. Stasia breathed out slowly and pulled the trigger, eliminating her target. She jumped and spun around when she heard a twig snap behind her. She found herself faced with several assailants. _Damn, _she thought. She knew that the rifle wouldn't do her any good at this close range and although she could fight hand-to-hand, it wasn't exactly her favorite thing. So instead she decided to try something risky and very stupid. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed the other weapon. The bow settled in her grip and she slung the quiver over her shoulder. One of the arrows looked funny, but she didn't have time to figure it out. _This is probably a good time to remember your never shot a bow before, Anastasia, _her subconscious chided her. _Guess I better figure it out, _Stasia quipped at the little voice. She whipped an arrow out and drew the string back and let go. Without waiting to see where it landed she loaded another arrow and shot. She loosed a third and fourth arrow and found herself staring at four bodies on the ground. _Well, _she thought, _that went well. _She looked around. She could hear footsteps coming up the path that the other men had come up and she knew she needed a way out-fast. Looking at her quiver, the funny arrow caught her eye again. _No way..._she took a closer look, _that can't be..._she shook her head-no time for speculation. She loaded the funny looking arrow and took a deep breath. _Guess it's just a day of stupid decisions, _she thought and she took a flying leap off the cliff. She spun and shot the arrow mid-fall. A rope flew after the arrow, one end still attached to the bow. Anastasia clumsily swung under the cliff and landed on the inlet underneath it. She felt a breath of relief escape her lips as the lights lifted and she found herself back in the simulation room. Agent Barton flung open the door, a look of shock still lingering on his face.

"Get out here," he ordered, his tone bordering on angry.

"What is it?" asked Anastasia, "Did I do something wrong or…?"

"Is that the first time you've shot a bow?" demanded Agent Barton

"Yes..." said Stasia uncertainly. Barton just stared at her wordlessly while she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because there are only two people in the history of S.H.I.E.L.D. who have ever solved that particular simulation the way that you just solved it," Natasha walked back into the training room and processed the situation in less than a second, "Most people don't even touch the bow."

"Oh." Anastasia shrugged, "It just seemed like the best option to me. Would you stop gawking at me?" The last part was directed at Clint, who blushed, embarrassed, and looked away.

"Sorry," he muttered. Natasha laughed.

"Oh c'mon Clint, lighten up. Someone was going to come along and do it eventually." Clint rolled his eyes good naturedly at her.

"Yeah, yeah." He shot a sideways glance at Anastasia and it was Natasha's turn to roll her eyes.

"Why don't you go get her set up with some equipment and I'll work on knives with Natalia, then we can run the partner simulation?"

"Sounds good to me," Clint shot a grin at Natasha, then beckoned to Anastasia and the two of them headed into a room off of the main training center. Natasha went to the target next to Natalia's and picked up a knife. Natalia's target was already littered with thrown knives, some having hit their mark, others not so much. Natasha drew her arm back and flicked her wrist, sending the knife she was holding downrange. Natalia was very determinedly not saying a word; she simply continued her own throwing regimen. After a few minutes though, she glanced at Natasha's target and saw a group of knives in the center, fit into about the space of a half dollar. Natalia's determination finally broke.

"How do you get the knives so close together?"

"Practice," answered Natasha, sticking another knife in her target. She turned and looked at Natalia. "How long have you been throwing knives?" Natalia shrugged.

"As long as I can remember," she said, "but my groups have never been that tight."

"Then there's something off in your form." Natasha stated the fact bluntly, spinning a knife on her right pointer finger. Natalia sighed. She could see that Natasha was being cautious, not wanting to engage too much. Understandable, given the girls' previous reactions to her. But now Natalia was getting her first good look at the woman she had been taught to both fear and revere for her entire life. She thought about the woman that she and Stasia had seen from the rafters, the one that was everything the Black Widow wasn't supposed to be and Natalia made a decision.

"Do you think you could help me with that?" Natasha looked at Natalia's eyes-something had changed there. A wall that had been lurking just behind her pupils had been lowered. _She's letting me in, _realized Natasha. She kept her expression neutral and said,

"Sure. That's why I'm here." Natalia nodded and picked up a knife. Natasha didn't put her knife down, but walked around so that she had a better angle on Natalia's throwing form. As soon as Natalia drew back her arm, Natasha saw the main issue.

"Tighten up your core," she said.

"What?" Natalia looked over with a confused look on her face. Natasha took a few steps closer and set her hand lightly on her trainee's stomach. Natalia didn't flinch, but instead became increasingly still.

"Tighten up these muscles right here," said Natasha quietly. Natalia nodded, doing as Natasha instructed. She whipped back her arm and sent the knife flipping end-over-end at the target-right into the center. She grinned at Natasha, forgetting for just a second who she was working with. Natasha smiled back, seeing the light in Natalia's eyes. _Maybe Coulson's right, _she shook her head and laughed to herself, _who am I kidding; Coulson's _always _right._

* * *

Clint practically dragged Anastasia into the equipment room.

"Hey!" said Stasia, "Slow down! What's the big deal?" Clint turned to her, his excitement finally showing through on his face. Anastasia slowly started to catch on. "Only two people…were you the other one?" she asked. Clint nodded, grinning.

"I haven't had anyone interested in archery since I joined S.H.I.E.L.D." he said, "and I'm sorry if you're not actually interested; if you just hit every target you aimed at and that was the first time you shot a bow you have serious natural talent and I'm gonna teach you everything I can." He turned to the wall, frowning at the selection. He finally grabbed a bow that had a muddy brown riser and black limbs.

"This will have to do for now; we can get one custom made for you later." His smile widened even more, "Trust me, the custom made ones are much more fun." Anastasia eyed his bow, which was still slung over his shoulder. She took the bow and arrows that he handed to her.

"Should be fun," she said and followed him back out to the shooting range. He pointed to a black line on the ground.

"This is the firing line, although if you ask the SciOps agents they'll tell you that you don't actually _fire_ a bow, since no chemical reaction takes place when you release the string, but we aren't about to mess with a system that's been working for as long as ours has. Go ahead and straddle the line-you're right handed, yes?" Clint looked at Anastasia for confirmation and she nodded. "Okay, so stand with your left foot toward the target." She did as he instructed, the weight of the bow already feeling comfortable in her hand and the quiver natural on her back. "Now grab an arrow; the odd color fletch is called the index fletch. Make sure it's pointing at you when you nock the arrow." Clint rolled his eyes, "Once we get you your own equipment this won't be an issue because custom made bows can be designed to overcome the need to nock the arrows a certain way." Anastasia nodded, clicking the arrow on to the string as directed. "Alright, now shoot," Clint told her.

"Just like that?" she asked, surprised. Clint gave her a look.

"You did it in the simulation," he said, "it's no different out here." Stasia shrugged and lifted the bow, pulling back the string and let an arrow fly at the five yard target. She thought that Agent Barton was going to start crying, he was so happy when it landed dead center in the bulls-eye.

"That's quite incredible," he told her once he calmed down a bit, "there's a few things form-wise to work on, but we can iron those out no problem. The real fun is going to be training you to fight with a bow."

"Fight with a bow?" questioned Anastasia, "don't you just shoot people with it?" Barton rolled his eyes.

"That's what everyone thinks, but there's a whole other range of uses for your bow in a fight situation." Anastasia glanced away from her mentor and saw Agent Romanoff looking over at them.

"Вы получите в качестве оправдания ему," _(You'll have to excuse him)_ said the red-headed assassin, "Он действительно в целом стрельба из лука дело." _(He's really into the whole archery thing)_

"Я могу сказать," _(I can tell) _replied Stasia, amused.

"Но я думаю это не без оснований," _(I suppose it's not without good reason) _Romanoff shrugged, "Он лишь в." _(He is rather good at it)_

"Так что я слышал," _(So I've heard) _responded Anastasia, "По всей видимости я слишком." _(Apparently I am too) _Natasha chuckled and it quickly turned into a full out laugh when she caught sight of the glare Clint was shooting at her.

"Not funny Nat."

"Actually, I thought it was." Clint growled at her and had shot an arrow at her before either of the twins could blink. _Whoa, _thought Stasia, _guess good was a bit of an understatement. _Natasha didn't flinch at all, on the contrary she looked almost bored, as if this happened between the two of them often. _It probably does,_ mused Natalia. Natasha simply flicked a knife with pinpoint accuracy and sliced Clint's arrow cleanly in half. Clint glowered at her for another moment, then swung his bow over his shoulder again.

"Let's try that partner simulation now," he said, leading their little quartet over to the simulation room. Both the twins walked in without hesitation this time and Natasha and Clint retired to the observation room to watch. The two agents shared a look when they saw the simulation that was running.

"Fury or Coulson totally rigged these simulations," said Natasha.

"It could be a coincidence that they're running the same test we ran in our partner evaluation," Even as he spoke, Clint sounded like he didn't believe it. Natasha barely spared enough energy to shoot him an are-you-for-real-look.

"Well let's see how _they_ solve it," she muttered.

* * *

The twins looked around as the simulation took effect. All of a sudden out of nowhere, ten plus assailants sprang up all around them. Anastasia spied something off to her left. She darted over and grabbed the bow and arrows while Natalia went straight for the hand-to-hand approach. Stasia spun around.

"Talia, duck!" she cried, drawing back her bow and shooting without waiting to see if her sister had complied or not. Her arrow took down one of Natalia's attackers. Stasia quickly spun and began firing off shots at the ones coming straight for her, until one got too close for her to shoot him. She thought about what Agent Barton had said and instinctively shifted so that both of her hands were gripping the riser and she slashed at the man with the bow, quickly following it with a kick to the temple to knock him down. The girls continued in this way for a few minutes until the large group of men lay powerless on the floor. Suddenly a little girl peeked around the door frame, looking absolutely terrified.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" inquired Anastasia, still slightly out of breath. The little girl didn't speak, just shook her head and ran away. Stasia started after her but Natalia said,

"Wait," Anastasia looked at her questioningly. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" asked Stasia. Then all of a sudden she heard it too-the telltale beeping of a bomb. She shot Natalia a look, then started running after the little girl.

"Stasia! We have to get out!" called Natalia.

"Find that bomb!" was Anastasia's only reply. Natalia rolled her eyes in frustration, but began a quick evaluation to find the best place to plant a bomb in the room. Meanwhile, Anastasia flew down the hall, chasing the little one who kept disappearing behind corners. She finally caught up to her, only to come face-to-face with a whole room full of people. The best description Stasia had for it was civilians in a war zone. _They must be here to die, _realized Anastasia, _I have to get them out. _She gritted her teeth, _out won't do them any good, that's just throwing them to the sharks._ She frantically scanned the room, searching for something, _anything_, that would help her save those people. Her eyes landed on a patch of floor and she found their way out.

Natalia had unearthed the bomb after shifting the desk and several cabinets so that she could lift un the loose floorboard that was conveniently concealing the bomb. Now she was kneeling, carefully examining the tangle of wires before her. She took her knife and carefully snipped one of them, keeping herself very calm as the beeping accelerated. Focusing, she identified and cut the next wire in seconds. She hesitated over the third one, knowing that once she cut the wire the simulation would end. _Where is Anastasia?_

Anastasia was still in the room with the people who were trapped. She had shifted a wardrobe away from the patch of floor she was eyeing. She fell to her knees and carefully pressed around the seam, confirming what she had thought-the floor was uneven. _A trapdoor_, she thought triumphantly. She took an arrow out of the quiver that she was still wearing on her back and worked it in between the trapdoor and the wall, wiggling and pushing it in until she could leverage the door open. The hidden entrance popped up and she waved the captives down into the protection of an underground bunker, slamming the door tightly shut after the last one was in. Anastasia turned and took off sprinting, knowing that she had to get back to Natalia fast.

Talia was eyeing the timer on the clock with rapidly growing anxiety.

00:10…..00:09….

_Stasia's not going to make it back in time, _she thought frantically.

"Stasia!" she called in the direction of the empty doorway.

00:06…..00:05…..00:04….

Talia looked down at her knife that was ready to end all of this, but something told her that Stasia needed to be in the room with her.

00:03…00:02…00:01…

"Talia!" The cry echoed in the room and Natalia pulled up, slicing the wire. She saw Anastasia dive into the room and land beside her as explosions erupted around them.


	5. Work Hard

Anastasia opened her eyes to find herself staring at the wall of the simulation room. She rolled her head to the side and saw Natalia lying next to her. Stasia pushed herself into a sitting position and winced, pushing a hand against her ribs as the blood rushed down from her head, clouding her vision. She cradled her other arm in her lap, cringing when she tried to move her wrist. _Well that's probably broken. _

"Talia," she said. Her sister groaned and looked over at Stasia.

"What happened?" asked Natalia, looking very confused.

"You got mostly blown up." Both twins turned to the door and saw Clint and Natasha standing there.

"Blown up? I thought this was a simulation." Stasia looked at their mentors.

"We'll it wouldn't be a very effective simulation if it didn't have some consequences for the actions you took in it, would it?" Natasha snorted.

"So why were we only mostly blown up?" questioned Natalia.

"Because you only mostly did it wrong," answered Clint, "although the definition of 'right' for this simulation varies depending on who you ask," he added, rolling his eyes. Natalia struggled into a sitting position, gasping when she moved her left ankle.

"We should probably get you two patched up," Natasha sent a sidelong glance in Clint's direction, hesitating. "Are either of you dying to see what Medical looks like?"

"Not exactly...but how else are we going to get the supplies we need?" asked Anastasia.

"We have them," Clint told her. Talia raised an eyebrow.

"You guys have the supplies to treat broken limbs without going to medical?" she asked, disbelief coloring her tone. The two agents shared a look.

"Clint really hates medical," said Natasha after a pause.

"Don't act like you don't Tasha," her partner muttered in retort. Natasha rolled her eyes at him.

"The point is that we can get you both fixed up back in our rooms," she said.

"That's all fine and dandy," said Natalia sarcastically, "but I can't exactly walk on a broken ankle." Before she had even finished speaking, Clint had reached down and swung her up into his arms.

"Problem solved," he said looking down at her, practically daring her to question him. Talia gritted her teeth.

"You realize that I could incapacitate you in fifteen different ways right now, even with my injuries?"

"Yes I do actually," Clint smirked, "you forget who I've been working with for the past ten years." They both looked over at Natasha, who was watching Natalia curiously.

"Why didn't you take him out?" She asked, "I would have thought that it would be second nature, completely reflexive." Natalia shrugged.

"I knew that if he needed to be taken out, Stasia would do it." Clint and Natasha paused. Clearly, they hadn't been expecting her to say that. Talia looked over at her sister, knowing that she had just revealed how deep their trust and love for each other went. _Is that okay? _Natalia asked with her eyes. Stasia kind of shrugged. _We have to trust someone, _she answered. _Do we, though? _countered Natalia, _cause we've been doing pretty well not trusting anyone so far. _Anastasia just looked at her for a minute. _He didn't get us out so that we could live in fear Talia. _Natalia bit the inside of her cheek. _I know. _Stasia tipped her head to the side slightly. _I guess that's our answer then. _Natalia gave a barely perceptible nod. Barton and Romanoff were watching the silent exchange with subtle curiosity. When both of the twins looked back up at them, Clint cleared his throat and said,

"Well we should probably go." Natasha looked down at Anastasia.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," answered the trainee. Natasha extended a hand to the girl, and cautiously, Stasia took hold of it and pulled herself up. She clenched her teeth together in pain, but nodded to their mentors and the quartet made their way down to Clint's quarters.

* * *

Half an hour later, the two girls were mostly bandaged up and Clint was strapping Anastasia's wrist into a splint.

"Lucky it wasn't your draw hand," he commented, "so you can still shoot." Stasia shrugged noncommittally; she still wasn't sure how she felt about the whole archery thing. A sickening crunch echoed across the room as Natasha set Natalia's ankle but no one flinched. Calmly, the agent began wrapping the ankle. Trusting her hands to do the work without her eyes, Natasha looked up at Natalia.

"How quickly is this going to heal?" She asked the younger girl quietly. Clint's head snapped in her direction, surprised by the question, but Natasha maintained her calm stare at Natalia. The latter refrained from revealing any outward emotion, but when she looked over at her sister there was hesitancy in her eyes. Anastasia held Natalia's eyes for less than a second, just long enough to remind her of their decision, then Natalia turned back to Natasha.

"A few days, at most," she responded quietly. Romanoff nodded, continuing to wrap. A look of understanding came over Barton's face when she said that, after he had spent that entire exchange looking confusedly between the three women.

"How many did they give you?" Natasha questioned her protégée. Natalia shook her head.

"I don't-"

"She got injected twice a year," interjected Anastasia, cutting her sister off. Natalia looked over at her in surprise.

"I came home to an empty house on those days," said Stasia as an explanation. Natalia held her sister's eyes for a moment, then they both looked away. Natasha tied off the wrap and reached behind her to grab a walking boot.

"You're probably okay with this then, no crutches needed." She slid the boot over Natalia's ankle. While the girl did up the straps, Natasha placed a hand on her hip and fixed Anastasia with a hard gaze.

"And you?" Stasia shook her head.

"No," she said, "I wasn't supposed to be the weapon; I was the cover, the distraction so that no one would notice Talia," she sighed and gestured to her wrist, "it'll take normal time for this to heal." Natasha didn't respond; she had already figured that out and was just confirming.

"So," said Clint, "I assume you're wondering about the simulation." Stasia and Talia nodded.

"What exactly happened in there?" asked Anastasia.

"You were given a scenario with more than two possible outcomes," said Natasha.

"Usually," added Clint, "simulations are a pass/fail type thing; however this one had a third solution."

"One where you could make the morally right choice and still potentially complete the given task." As Natasha spoke, a light dawned in Anastasia's eyes.

"The people," she said simply. Barton and Romanoff nodded.

"The 'pass' in this simulation is supposed to be that you figure out where the bomb is hidden, disarm it and get out," said Clint, "with the 'fail' being the opposite."

"However," Natasha jumped in, an edge of sarcasm in her voice, "they didn't account for moral agents when they added in the people; they were just trying to make it 'realistic'."

"I still don't quite understand," said Natalia.

"Every room in the building you were in was rigged with a bomb like the one that you disabled, all of them set to explode simultaneously," explained Clint, "by moving the people underground, Anastasia saved their lives, but that meant that you lost any chance of getting out of the building on time."

"By disarming the bomb in the room you were in you saved your own lives, but you still would have gotten pretty roughed up," said Natasha, "so that's why the simulation left you with injuries." The twins nodded.

"I guess that provides incentive to do well on simulations," muttered Anastasia.

"How do you two know so much about the simulation?" inquired Natalia, "I mean, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be able to get that much information just from watching." Natasha shared a quick look with Clint. "This was our…test, you could say," Clint said tentatively.

"For what?" asked Anastasia, "to become S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?" Natasha shook her head.

"To see if this-" she gestured between herself and Clint, "would work. Us being partners," she clarified.

"All of my partnerships had ended in disaster, so S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly keen to put me in another one," added Clint.

"And I didn't work with partners," said Natasha quietly, "Ever." The twins turned a little sober at that thought, but they both brushed it off and smiled. Natasha nodded slowly and she looked at Clint. He raised his eyebrows at her, asking a silent question. Natasha nodded and Clint pulled out his phone.

"What is he-" Anastasia started to ask, but Natasha silenced her with a look. The two sisters looked at each other curiously.

"Coulson?" Clint spoke as soon as their handler picked up the phone.

"Yeah, that thing we talked about? Okay great. Yep, be there in five." He snapped the phone shut and smiled at Natasha.

"It's a go."

"What is?" asked Natalia, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. Natasha graced her with a rare smile.

"Something I thought the both of you would ask to do sooner."

* * *

Barton and Romanoff led their protégées through the hall, all four of them determinedly ignoring the eyes and whispers that followed them. They stopped outside a door and Clint knocked. Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed past him, opening the door. Clint sighed but ushered the twins into what appeared to be an office. There were two people already waiting for them in the office. One was an older man, obviously some higher up agent that the twins hadn't met yet. _Come to think of it, _thought Stasia, _we haven't really met anyone other than Barton and Romanoff. _Her train of thought cut off when she saw the other occupant of the office.

"Rani!" Both girls exclaimed in delight. The little girl turned around, grinning at the sound of her name.

"Stasia! Talia!" She cried, sliding out of her chair and running over to the girls. Natasha and Clint came to stand next to their handler.

"Thanks for knocking Barton," commented Coulson with an edge of sarcasm as the three of them watched the reunion.

"I tried sir," responded Clint, a smile just tugging at the corners of his mouth. Natasha scowled at both of them.

"I thought ten years was long enough to establish," she said, "that I don't knock."

"I still have hope," Coulson replied. Clint snorted.

"I don't." Natasha punched him and he broke down laughing.

Natalia and Anastasia both gave Rani a full looking over.

"Have they been taking good care of you sweetie?" asked Anastasia. Rani nodded.

"I've been staying with Phil," she said, pointing at the older man, "but they haven't let me see you; why couldn't I see you?"

"Well, we've been busy hon," said Natalia, glancing at Anastasia, "but we'll come visit more often now, okay?" Rani broke into an ear-to-ear grin and nodded vigorously. Stasia reached down and scooped her up and a peal of laughter broke out from the young girl. Natalia left the two of them together and joined the trio of older agents. The older man extended a hand to her.

"Agent Phil Coulson," he said in way of greeting. She grasped his hand firmly.

"Natalia Silivanov," she responded, eyeing him warily. Just because the girls had decided to trust (for the most part) Barton and Romanoff didn't mean that she automatically trusted every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they met. "I want to know what's going to happen to her." Natalia jerked her head in Rani's direction as she spoke. Coulson contemplated his words before responding.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to put her in foster care," he admitted, "but when we asked her if she had any family, she told us that you two were all that she had." Natalia looked surprised-she didn't realize how much the little one cared for them.

"So where does that leave us?" she asked.

"Well she can't live with you guys; S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't permit kids in the recruits' quarters, even the special ones you guys are staying in," Coulson sighed, "but I hate to put children into foster care if there's a way to avoid it, so, if the two of you have no objection she can continue staying with me. I can legally get her guardianship transferred into my name no problem. The alternative is of course foster care and it's very likely that you would never see her again." Natalia was silent after this, turning his words over in her head. Part of her wondered if Rani never seeing them again wouldn't be a good thing. _With our past and what we are choosing to make of our future?_ She thought, _that's not exactly the best environment for a child._ As if he could read her mind, Coulson said,

"You should know, S.H.I.E.L.D. is not a bad place to raise a child and she wouldn't be living here 24/7-I have an apartment off base." Natalia nodded and looked over at the little redhead. _Who am I kidding?_ She smiled to herself, _we could never leave that little girl._ She looked up at the three agents.

"We would really appreciate you taking her in, Agent Coulson." Coulson looked surprised at her quick decision.

"Don't you need to talk to your sister?" he asked. Natalia looked him dead in the eye.

"I don't need to." Coulson nodded slowly, but didn't question her further.

"Well," he said, checking his watch, "I think we need to get going; this was just a quick hello so that she knew you both were alright. We'll get a longer visit worked out around your training." Natalia nodded.

"Speaking of training," Clint looked at Natalia, "You two ready for another round?"

"Barton, she's got a broken ankle," objected Coulson, "which I assume is not in a cast because you didn't go to Medical," he glared at his agents, "and her sister has a bruised rib and a broken wrist. What training are you suggesting for them?"

"Actually Coulson," Natasha interjected before Clint could respond, "Her ankle is in a boot because she doesn't need the cast." She gave him a look layered with meaning and understanding flashed in his eyes.

"I see," he said. Natasha snorted.

"As if we don't have the means of getting a cast without going to Medical anyway," she muttered.

"We're not going to do anything super intensive Coulson," Barton told him, "probably just some more weapons training." Coulson looked to Natalia.

"Are the two of you up for that? You're well within your rights to refuse them." Natalia looked insulted.

"Мы русский. Я думаю, мы можем его обработки." _(We're Russian. I think we can handle it.)_ A smile broke through Natasha's face at Talia's words while Clint looked to his partner for a translation. Natasha just shook her head, waiting to see what Coulson's reaction would be. He looked at the young woman in front of him and answered her, in perfect Russian,

"Я надеюсь, что так оно и есть. Получить по нему." _(I should hope so. Get to it.)_ He nodded to his agents and the twins, dismissing them. Stasia and Talia said goodbye to Rani, promising to see her again soon, then the foursome departed.

* * *

Back in the training room, Barton and Romanoff looked at their trainees.

"So, what next?" Barton asked them. Anastasia was studying the ropes, comtemplating the difficulty of playing on them with only one hand. Natalia saw what she was thinking and rolled her eyes. No way was she gonna let Stasia go up there and break _another_ limb.

"You said some more weapons training, right?" Natalia replied to Barton's question. Anastasia scowled at her sister, but quickly turned her attention back to the two agents in front of them.

"Sounds good to me," said Natasha, shrugging. She looked at Natalia, "Care to learn some interesting things about knives?" Natalia smiled at the prospect of the things that Natasha had discovered about knives.

"Sure," she said and the pair split off in the direction of the throwing range. Clint jerked his head in the direction of the equipment room.

"C'mon," he told Stasia, "I can show you what specialized archery equipment means." Anastasia followed him, actually feeling a bit excited about learning more about the sport she was clearly being trained in. _This should be interesting._

* * *

Natasha grabbed a knife off the wall and flicked it at Natalia, who instinctively grabbed it out of the air. Natasha nodded, starting to get a better feel for how much skill this girl had for knife throwing.

"So how much stress training have you done with knives?" asked Natasha.

"Um," Natalia looked uncertain, "Not much, if any." A smile spread across Natasha's face.

"One of the most important things for a knife fighter to remember is that you can't let your emotions compromise your skills. Stress has to be controlled in a fighting environment." She reached up and grabbed another knife, flipping it in the air and catching it again. "Equally important, you can't rely on having a proper stance and ample time. Your target isn't going to stand still while you take aim and stick a knife in them."

"So basically, I have to learn how to throw a knife accurately while throwing the knife technically wrong," summarized Natalia.

"Basically." Natasha pointed to the throwing range. "We can try some exercises over there to get you used to the feeling before I throw in the next thing." Wondering what the next thing would be, Natalia followed her mentor over to the range.

* * *

Clint handed Anastasia a quiver full of what looked like normal arrows. However, the bow that he pulled down was anything but normal. It looked like a standard Recurve bow, with a black riser and limbs, but it was clearly specially made. The riser was a unique model, with the carbon fiber twisting in an original pattern and it bore no brand label, whereas the other bows had emblems of Hoyt and Easton and other companies on them. The other odd thing about the bow that Barton was holding was the grip. The back was the normal smooth black plastic but the front of the grip was a series of buttons. He grinned when he saw Anastasia eyeing them curiously.

"I did say specialized, didn't I?"

"Yeah...I wasn't exactly sure what that meant," said Stasia, "actually, I'm still not sure." Before she could blink, Clint had nocked an arrow and punched a series of buttons, one that he clearly knew well. He shot the arrow toward the ceiling and wrapped an arm around Anastasia's waist. Before she could register what the arrow had done they were flying through the air, up into the rafters. They swung high and Clint dropped her, leaving her to land deftly on the rafters. He landed on the beam above her and snatched the grappling hook arrow from where it had lodged. He glanced down at Anastasia, smirking at her astonished expression. She recovered quickly and shot him a look.

"Alright, so you can run away." Stasia shrugged, painting an unimpressed look on her face. Clint leveled a glare at her and nocked another arrow. He scanned the floor below them, then a grin crept across his face as his gaze landed on the two figures at the throwing range. He tapped the buttons on his grip, drew back the bow and took careful aim before loosing his shot.

* * *

Natasha rolled as though she was avoiding an assailant and she flicked the knife upward, sticking it cleanly in the target. She stood and shook her hair out of her face. Natalia stood watching, looking around at the four targets that Natasha had just nailed.

"Seems simple enough," said the younger girl. Natasha nodded at Talia's ankle.

"Gonna be able to do it with that?" Natalia sent her a you're-kidding-right look. She grabbed a knife off the table and stepped forward. She took a breath, then jumped up and grabbed the low beam above her head. She clamped the blade between her teeth and swung to build up some momentum. She looped her legs over the other low beam and as she swung upside down she grabbed the knife out of her mouth and flipped it into the first target. As it landed with a _thunk_ she let herself fall from the beam and roll into a somersault to avoid putting weight on her ankle. She caught the second knife that Natasha threw at her and spun around, firing it directly into the block behind her. She snatched the third knife from the air without looking back and fell into a tumble, letting her momentum carry her to the wall. She pushed off of it with her good leg and managed to get into a kneeling position and stick the knife in a target to her left. The fourth knife came spinning at her head, but instead of grabbing it, she ducked and let it embed itself in the wall. She pulled it out of the wall and rolled into the same tuck that Natasha had completed minutes earlier. Natalia sprung out of the somersault and flung the final knife at its target, smiling in a satisfied way when it landed solidly. She looked over at her mentor who was looking on with an air of approval.

"Good," said Natasha, "ready to try something else?" Natalia nodded, a bit wary of the wicked grin that spread across Natasha's face.

"Go grab your knives," her mentor ordered. Natalia stood, favoring her good ankle, and went around to each of her targets. She was standing at the final target when she heard a surprised 'oh!" from Natasha's direction. Looking over, Natalia saw an arrow pinning the redhead to the wall. The tip had split into several small spikes and tangled itself into Natasha's jacket. Without even blinking, Natalia threw the knife she had just pulled from the target and sliced the shaft of the arrow in half, freeing her trainer. Natasha spun and ripped out her sidearm, firing several quick shots in the direction that the arrow had come from.

"Tasha!" Clint's complaining cry came floating down from the rafters.

"Don't shoot if you can't take some back Barton," Romanoff was completely calm, taking careful aim and firing again. Natalia looked around and her eyes landed on the ropes. _This is a terrible idea, _she thought to herself, but she headed for them anyway. She pulled herself up using her arms and knees, holding her ankle as still as possible. She slipped onto the beam behind Agent Barton, taking careful note of Anastasia below them. Grinning, Talia inched her way to right behind Barton. She caught Natasha's eye and the older agent gave a very slight nod. Natalia balanced carefully and gave Barton a well-placed shove, sending him spiraling to the floor.

"Natalia!" Cried Anastasia, but neither twin could help their laughter as Barton landed in a heap on the training room floor. Natasha strolled over to Clint and put one foot on his chest.

"I win," she declared. He rolled his eyes at her but nodded in surrender, knowing he was her mercy at this point. She smirked, but reached down and helped her partner to his feet. The twins smiled, then they made their way over to the ropes and slid down to join their trainers.

"Not bad rookie," Natasha nodded approvingly at Natalia, who smirked at Clint. The latter rolled his eyes and raised a brow at Stasia. She shrugged, not looking too sorry.

"We're gonna have to work on that," muttered Barton. Natasha snorted.

"How about some food?" asked Clint, looking around at the three women. The twins nodded eagerly and Natasha shrugged. Clint took that for a yes and he led the girls out of the training room, heading for the dining hall.


	6. Play Harder

As the weeks passed, Anastasia and Natalia were surprised to find themselves feeling...at home. They bonded surprisingly well with Clint and Natasha, given the girls' past and that of the assassins. Their training was a comfortable mix of solo and partner exercises and each of the twins grew more confident in their abilities by the day. They also got to see Rani two or three times a week, in between their training and her schooling. Anastasia marveled at how her decision to save that little squirt had completely changed all three of their lives'. Stasia didn't know it, but that choice had changed far more than just hers and Natalia's lives. Natasha and Clint had never expected to connect emotionally to their protégées, but after spending almost every waking moment with them for the past month it seemed the world had other plans for the two agents. They couldn't help but laugh at the teenagers' antics and they found themselves falling in love with Natalia and Anastasia's little quirks. Of course, that love only extended so far in either direction; which was why Clint was sitting in front of Anastasia's door at seven am, twisting a lock pick into the deadbolt on her door. _I did try knocking, _he justified to himself, wedging the pin a bit further into the lock.

"Barton? What are you doing?" Clint jumped guiltily and spun around.

"Jesus Christ, Natasha, don't sneak up on me!" Natasha smirked.

"Don't let yourself be snuck up on," she retorted, "so why are you breaking in to Anastasia's room?"

"Yeah, did you consider knocking?" Natalia stepped out from behind Natasha, giving Clint his second shock of the morning. He recovered quickly and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I did," he said, "She didn't answer."

"What could possibly be so important-"Natalia started to ask, but was interrupted by Natasha, who took a well-placed kick at the door and broke through the barrier that Clint had been struggling with for at least 15 minutes.

"Kick first, don't ask questions," Natasha said over her shoulder to Natalia. Natalia sighed and followed the two agents into her sister's room.

"C'mon Stasia, get out of bed." Clint was obviously excited about something and impatience rang through his voice. He had taken to using Anastasia's nickname, a fact that Natasha didn't find surprising at all, even if the twins did. _After all it only took him a couple months to start using nicknames for me,_ she though, _even though I hated him for it._ She shook her head and leaned back against the wall, folding her arms. Anastasia rolled over and gave a small groan.

"Whaddya want Barton?"

"Just get out of bed!" Clint was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with ill-disguised anticipation. Anastasia rolled back over, curling deeper under her blanket and ignoring Barton's command. Clint glared at her for a moment, and then looked up at Natasha. The partners shared a grin and, in a movement too swift to be the first time they did it, Natasha jerked the blankets off the bed and Clint wrapped his arms around Anastasia, pulling her out of comfort.

"Argh!" Anastasia cried out and instinctively reached up with her thighs and wrapped them around Clint's neck. Usually that kind of a move was unexpected and easily took down the opponent; however, Clint didn't live by the usual. He released his grip around Stasia's waist and grabbed her upper arms instead. Anastasia lost her leverage and couldn't hold her legs long enough to bring Clint down. The older agent pressed the younger one to the floor, gently setting a knee to her chest and a forearm to her throat.

"You might be good Stasia," said Clint cheekily, "but I'm still better." He eased off the girl and let her sit up, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," she said, "Now what do you want?"

"Get dressed," he ordered, "Then meet us in the training room." Cling grinned, "I've got a special surprise this morning."

"It better be worth getting me up an hour early," grumbled Stasia. Clint didn't respond, just turned and walked out the door, Natasha following close behind him. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Natalia, expecting her to follow them, but the young girl just shook her head-she was going to wait with Stasia. Natasha shrugged and hurried after her partner.

"What exactly are you planning for this morning Barton?" Clint turned to her with sparkling eyes.

"Coulson gave me a package last night; S.H.I.E.L.D. got it special delivered." Natasha raised an eyebrow. She knew that he had been expecting a delivery, something that he had ordered a few weeks back.

"Is it..?" He nodded, a grin lighting up his entire face. She rolled her eyes but gave him a small smile.

"Don't overwhelm the girl."

"No promises," said Clint, giving her a wink. They reached the door to the training room and Clint pulled it open but Natasha strolled right past it.

"Where you going Tasha?" She smirked.

"Coulson has something for me." She strolled off, her hips sashaying along. Clint stared after her for a second, the rolled his eyes and entered the training room.

* * *

"Here Stasia," Natalia threw a pair of capri leggings at her sister along with a form fitting black t-shirt. Anastasia dragged herself off the floor and pulled on the clothes. She grabbed her favorite thing that she had received since she arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D.-new shoes. These particular shoes were specially made. They were soft and looked a bit like ballet slippers, but they were supportive enough to keep her feet from getting too sore. The fabric was quiet when she walked so she could still sneak around, and they worked with pretty much any outfit. She would be lying if she said that she hadn't considered that they would need to blend with whatever situation a mission with S.H.I.E.L.D. might put her in. _But where's the harm in that?_ She thought, _after all, that's where all this is leading, isn't it?_ She pulled the slippers on and dragged a brush through her hair, quickly looping it back in a ponytail. She stood and stretched, then properly looked at her sister for the first time this morning. Natalia was wearing a pair of black spandex and a white tank top. She had twisted her hair into a side braid and had on a pair of shoes that were identical to Anastasia's.

"Good morning," said Natalia with an amused smile. Anastasia rolled her eyes, but let the events of the morning go.

"C'mon," she told her sister, "Let's go see what Barton wants."

* * *

Agent Barton was standing behind one of the tables in the training room when the twins entered. Natalia looked around for Natasha, but came up empty. Shrugging, she parted from her sister and headed over to the throwing range. Anastasia stepped up to the table where Clint was.

"What's in the box?" she asked, gesturing to the box on the table between them. Barton grinned.

"A gift," he said simply, slicing through the packing tape with the air of someone who has waited their whole lives to do so. He removed the foam that was packed in on top of whatever was in the box. Then he pulled out a single, well wrapped package and handed it to Anastasia.

"Is it for me?" asked Stasia, a little confused. Clint nodded.

"C'mon, open it, open it!" Her trainer sounded exactly like a little kid at Christmas.

"You better open it." A familiar voice entered the training room. "He hasn't been this excited since the last new shipment of arrows." Natalia grinned at Natasha's words as Natasha walked up to the table, holding her own package, slightly smaller than Clint's. Anastasia gingerly unwrapped the package. As the paper wrappings fell to the ground she gasped at what she held in her hand. The cool metal of a brand new bow was like a miracle against her skin. The riser was a completely unique pattern, the carbon pieces twisting into a complicated, but beautiful design. But the design wasn't what took Stasia's breath away; it was the color. The carbon had been lacquered with a deep, majestic red, practically the color of blood. She ran her hand over the glossy finish, marveling in the perfect smoothness of the riser. She finally tore her eyes from the red riser to look at the limbs. They were curiously folded in on the riser in a way that she had never really seen a bow stored. She always had to completely remove the limbs from her borrowed bows, but these limbs were still connected to the riser. _Probably some weird S.H.I.E.L.D. design, _she thought. Instinctively, she set her left hand on the grip. An idea came to her mind, something she had seen Barton do with his bow but that she hadn't really understood at the time. She turned the riser vertical and flicked her wrist forward. The limbs snapped into place and the string pulled taught.

"Whoa..."she muttered, entranced by the bow.

"It's a little wobbly, but we can work on that," said Clint. Anastasia ignored him, now getting a proper look at the limbs. They were jet black, but if you looked closely there was an intricate inlay pattern, adding not only design, but strength to her limbs so they were less likely to twist or crack. The string too was a solid black; however, one of the dozen or so strands that went into the string was the same red as her riser. Anastasia couldn't find the words to express how she felt about the gift; she just looked up at Barton with sort of glassy eyes and gratitude written all over her face. He grinned.

"Told you we'd get you your own specialized equipment," he said.

"Specialized?" said Stasia surprised. She immediately looked down and felt her eyes grow wide when she saw the array of buttons built into her grip.

"We'll get those partially programmed today; then I can teach you how to program on the fly if you ever need to." Barton told her. Anastasia nodded, still too stunned and choked up to speak.

Natalia had made her way over to the table and was looking at Stasia's new bow with appreciation. All of a sudden, Natasha was handing her a package, similar to Anastasia's, but a little bit smaller. Surprised, Natalia looked up at Natasha.

"What's this?" she asked, confused.

"Just open it," replied Natasha. Natalia shrugged and did as directed, slitting open the packaging and sliding out the bubble wrapped lump that was inside of it. She cautiously removed the bubble wrap, seriously concerned that some kind of prank bomb was about to blow up in her face, and set it on the table, staring in shock down at what she now held in her hand. Four sharp and deadly knives were set neatly into two thigh holsters. The holsters were made of soft black leather that was smooth against Natalia's hands. She looked up at Natasha.

"Are these…?"

"For you," confirmed Natasha, nodding, "couldn't have Barton outfitting your sister without giving you a fighting chance as well." Natalia grinned.

"So," said Clint, "why don't we let you two break in your new toys a little bit?" The twins nodded eagerly and split off, heading for their respective ranges. Clint followed Anastasia, handing her a quiver as they went. The black leather was stiff enough to hold its cylindrical shape but soft enough to not irritate her when she slung it over her back and tightened the strap across her chest. The arrows sitting in the quiver were just as beautiful; they matched her bow perfectly with long, thin, black carbon shafts and black and red vanes. Stasia pulled the first one from the quiver without so much as a sound, nocking it onto the string. She pulled back, making sure to anchor solidly against the corner of her mouth. She took careful aim at the target 50 yards in front of her and let the arrow fly, landing it dead center. The projectile left her bow without so much as a whisper and Stasia turned to Barton, all smiles.

"Wonderful," she told him. He grinned back at her, nodding.

"I thought you would like it. What do you say we get some sequences programmed into it so you can have some more fun with those arrows?" Feeling ridiculously like a puppy, Anastasia nodded eagerly and they began tapping in different combos to experiment with her bow.

"We'll make top-bottom-top the order for a grappling hook arrow," said Clint, "Since that's fairly easy to remember and you're going to probably end up using that one quite often. So what you have to do is, hit top-bottom-top, and then tell it 'grappling hook'. It's coded to your fingerprint and as soon as you give it the first command it'll be coded to your voice as well."

"Cool," said Stasia, still amazed that they even had this kind of tech. She did as Clint instructed and in no time at all she was flying through the air on the end of her own arrow. She landed on one of the higher ceiling beams and chuckled, looking down at her grounded instructor. Grinning mischievously ,she tapped the middle button twice and whispered a new command to her bow. She nocked an arrow and tapped the middle button twice again to activate it. She took aim at the wall just above Barton's head and loosed the shot. As she had expected, Barton didn't flinch when the arrow came barreling at him, in fact he didn't move at all, at least, not until the arrow exploded over his head. He threw his hands up to shield his face as Silly String rained down around him. Brushing the annoying substance out of his hair, Clint glared up at Anastasia, who was smirking down at him.

"Oh it is so on," he muttered, moving to grab his own bow out of the training room. _She might thing she's hot stuff, but she's about to learn how to deal with professionals._

* * *

Natalia took the first thigh holster and wrapped it high around her leg, buckling it tight, ensuring that she didn't cut off circulation. The cool metal of the handles pressed against the skin high on her thighs, sending a shiver of excitement through her. _I love new toys,_ she thought. She reached over and did up the other one just the same. She straightened up and sent Natasha a thumbs-up. Natasha hit the button to start the moving targets across the throwing range. The targets were designed to act as human attackers would and were even roughly made to look like humans. Talia sprinted forward and rolled, twisting as she came out of the roll and grabbing her first knife with ease, sticking it into the target behind her. She flipped backwards into a handspring and kicked an assailant who had been trying to sneak up on her in the face. She sprang up onto the low ceiling beam above them and when the target had recovered she dropped down and wrapped her legs firmly around its neck. She pulled one hand off of the beam to grab a knife, leaving one arm holding up both her own weight and that of the target. Her right hand flashed out and sent a knife spinning into another fast-approaching target. She released her legs, having successfully asphyxiated the target dangling beneath her, and hauled herself back up onto the beam. Suddenly, two strong arms were pinning Natalia's arms to her side. Unable to twist out of the vise-like grip, she worked her leg up and punched a heel into the target where it would really hurt an actual person-a man anyway. Accordingly, the target doubled over and released its hold on her. Natalia took it out with a solid roundhouse kick and shoved the motionless body off of the beam. She threw her third knife at the final target from her perch, then somersaulted off the beam and landed neatly beside the fallen target. Adrenaline still racing through her veins, Natalia quickly collected her knives from the targets and headed over to Natasha to get her assessment of the practice run. Natasha had just opened her mouth to start when her comms crackled with Coulson's voice.

_"__Barton, Romanoff, report."_ Natasha spun around and looked at Clint, who was already staring at her, half frozen with shock, a forgotten arrow nocked and aimed in Stasia's general direction.

"You think they forgot that we aren't on active status right now?" he asked, eyes full of confusion. Natasha shrugged, similarly uncertain. They both turned to their protégées, about to tell them to resume training, when their comms sounded again.

_"__Bring the twins."_ Barton and Romanoff swung back to look at each other again, brows furrowed. Anastasia sent a worried glance to Natalia, who returned it, troubled by the sudden summons.

"C'mon then," said Clint, motioning for the girls to follow the two partners. Natalia slid her new weapons back into their holsters and Anastasia slung her bow onto her back, quickly tailing their mentors out of the training room.

* * *

Coulson was waiting for them in his office, holding two manila folders. He grimaced slightly when he saw the stoic looks on the two assassin's faces. Barton and Romanoff took the chairs in front of Coulson's desk, leaving the twins to stand off against the side wall. Coulson threw the folders down on the desk, letting them slide across to Clint and Natasha. Neither agent made any move to grab the folders. Clint folded his arms and Natasha gave Coulson a cold look.

"What is this, Coulson?" asked Barton, frowning at their handler.

"It's a mission, Barton," answered Coulson coolly.

"Did you miss the memo Phil?" Natasha butted in, "We're not on active right now."

"You are now," retorted Coulson, "Fury reinstated you."

"When?!" demanded Barton.

"About…ten minutes ago," said Coulson, looking at his watch.

"We can't go on active Coulson," Natasha looked pointedly at the twins, "We have an on-base assignment."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Romanoff," replied Coulson sarcastically, "because Fury is just going to not put his best team on a mission because they're on an _on-base assignment._" Natasha's nostrils flared.

"We're not going," she stated, anger simmering just below the surface.

"We have a commitment here Coulson," interjected Clint, "we can't just walk away."

"Not even for 2%?" asked Coulson, his frustration matching that of the two agents, "because that's the estimated success rate for any other team on this mission." Anastasia's mouth dropped open and she looked over at Natalia to ensure that she had heard right. _Two percent?_ she mouthed. Natalia's eyes were just as wide. _How can S.H.I.E.L.D. even send anyone on that kind of a mission?_ she mouthed back. _What do you think their success rate is?_ asked Stasia, nodding in their mentors' direction. Natalia shrugged and they refocused on the conversation.

"What's our rate?" questioned Natasha quietly.

"65%" responded Coulson. The two agents nodded; that was about what they had expected given everyone else's extremely low rate, but the twins shared another shocked look.

"Does it have to be done?" asked Clint. Coulson nodded.

"If you don't take it, we will be forced to send one of the lesser qualified teams." Natasha and Clint's eyes met; they both knew that they were taking this mission without a doubt. The real question of course, was:

"What about the twins?" Natasha raised her eyebrows at Coulson.

"Well," said their handler, "It _is_ customary for trainees to accompany their SO's on a couple missions over the course of their training period."

"That's all fine and dandy Coulson," said Barton, "except we aren't technically their SO's since Fury hasn't cleared them for future S.H.I.E.L.D. employment yet."

"Wait, what?" Natalia jumped into the conversation, "I thought we were cleared weeks ago!"

"You were cleared for _training only_," clarified Natasha, "a full check and admission to S.H.I.E.L.D. takes much longer, particularly in your cases, which is part of why you weren't placed with a larger training group."

"Once you've cleared all S.H.I.E.L.D. security measures, they assign you an SO, or supervising officer, to oversee your training and prepare you for a future at S.H.I.E.L.D," Barton told them.

"And what exactly have you been doing?" inquired Anastasia, raising an eyebrow at the two agents.

"Simple training," replied Natasha, "Anyway," she turned back to Coulson, "we can't take them because they haven't been cleared for off-base exercises."

"You know, my life would be a lot easier if you two would check your email on a regular basis." Coulson rolled his eyes, "They were cleared yesterday evening-Fury sent you a notice." Natasha and Clint exchanged a surprised look.

"So who're their SO's?" asked Clint. Natasha gave him the look she reserved for his idiotic moments, which were actually quite often, and Coulson scoffed.

"You're kidding, right Barton?" said the handler, "Who do you think the SO's are?"

"Oh." A blush crept up Barton's neck, "I was just confirming," he recovered lamely. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"So," said Natasha, redirecting the conversation back on topic, "we can take them along?"

"Officially, yes," answered Coulson, "However, it is left up to the judgment of the SO to determine whether the recruit is ready for the mission or not." Natasha and Clint gave small, identical smirks; they both knew that Natalia and Anastasia could handle a mission, even one as difficult as this was projected to be.

"So are you going to actually look at the mission briefing or…." Coulson looked at the two agents questioningly; it wouldn't be the first time that these two blew off their briefing and winged the entire mission. Clint and Natasha exchanged a quick grin, and then each grabbed one of the folders.

"We'll read through them," said Natasha as both agents stood, turning for the door. Natalia and Anastasia followed close behind their new SO's, wondering what exactly they had gotten themselves into now.

"Make sure you _actually_ read it!" Coulson called after the group, "And _follow _it too!" Barton and Romanoff shared a look that suggested that following the briefing was an option, and then turned to the two trainees behind them with impish grins. Barton raised his eyebrows at the twins.

"Ready to have some fun?"


	7. Secrets Don't Make Friends

Anastasia looked appreciatively around the private jet that S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided them with. She was sitting next to Natalia in one of the comfortable chairs, looking at the two agents across from them. Natasha stretched and Clint grabbed two folders, handing one to each twin.

"So here's the deal," he said, "the target is Jack Ronzo. He's a high level officer in a weapons ring that is operating out of Yemen."

"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with him?" asked Natalia.

"He has some information that we want," Natasha smirked, "and he's not exactly cooperating." Anastasia raised her eyebrows.

"So what are we doing?" She gestured between herself and Natalia.

"You're going to shadow me," said Clint, "we'll be on back-up, covering Nat and Talia while they go in and take care of the target."

"So I'm shadowing you then?" Natalia directed her question at Natasha.

"Loosely," said Natasha, jerking her head to the side a little bit, "but there are parts of my job that I can't do with a shadow, so you're going to have to learn roll with the punches." Neither twin missed the way that Barton's eyes darkened at his partner's blunt statement.

"That doesn't have to be a part of this Nat."

"But we both know that it will go much more smoothly if it is," Natasha met his gaze steadily; "we've proven that." Clint frowned, but let the subject drop.

"Natasha will be posing as a wealthy American businesswoman who's closing a deal with the target, and Natalia, you will be her personal assistant." Clint handed Natalia a folder, "Here's your cover." Talia flipped open the folder.

"Nora Scott?"

"You're American now," Natasha smiled; "sorry for the downgrade, but-" She was interrupted by Clint punching her in the arm.

"I take offense to that!" He said grumpily. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Есть ли у вас не преступление?" _(Is there anything you don't take offense to?) _She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for the girls to hear, eliciting a slight chuckle from both of them. Clint glowered at her some more, then they both returned to the briefing.

"What's your cover name?" Natalia directed her question to Natasha.

"Noel Rodgers," she replied without missing a beat. _A cover she's very familiar with then, _thought Natalia.

"The main objective is information; S.H.I.E.L.D. wants him brought in alive, but only if we absolutely have to bring him in. They'd rather not remove a prominent public figure if we can avoid it," said Clint.

"When do we go?" asked Stasia. Natasha glanced down at her watch.

"Wheels up in 30."

* * *

An hour later their private jet was coasting along at cruising altitude. Anastasia and Clint were sitting in the cabin, meticulously examining and caring for their bows. Clint was rubbing wax into his string with a little scrap of leather, smoothing down the frays. Stasia was gently polishing her riser, drawing a subtle gleam from the red lacquer. Every few minutes she glanced up at the door that Natasha and Natalia had disappeared through earlier.

"They won't be back anytime soon," Clint didn't even have to look up to know that his trainee was looking for her sister.

"Why not?" She questioned, "What could they possibly be doing?" Clint frowned slightly.

"They're...getting ready," he finally said, "They have to be ready to approach the target as soon as we touch down in Yemen."

"What does getting ready entail?" _Damn, _thought Clint, _why does she have to ask all the right questions? _ He sighed, certain that, based on how the twins treated their past, Stasia wasn't going to like some of the things Talia did with Natasha as her SO.

"I know that you are aware of how Natasha worked before she came to S.H.I.E.L.D." Clint's tone was guarded and Anastasia could tell that he was wary of bringing up this subject. His statement was rhetorical, but Stadia nodded anyway.

"Just because she's a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. now doesn't mean that her methods are any less...effective and Fury doesn't like to change things that aren't broken." Clint winced, ever so slightly, and Anastasia tilted her head to the side, studying him with new eyes.

"There's a reason that we are the best team S.H.I.E.L.D. has to offer and a large part of that is because Natasha is _still_ the Black Widow." Anastasia froze at the sound of Natasha's code name.

"What _exactly_ are they doing back there?" she asked cautiously.

"Natasha is teaching Talia how to get ready for their portion of this mission, just like I am with you," answered Clint. Anastasia glared at him.

"We didn't leave one controlling group to join another. Just answer my question." Clint snorted.

"If you think that S.H.I.E.L.D. actually controls either me or Natasha then we really need to work on your observational skills." His voice softened, "We aren't going to do anything like what you're thinking to you or your sister. That isn't what I meant. I told you those things so that you understand why they look the way they look when they come out of there. She probably isn't going to look like the sister that you know and along the way she is going to have to do things that you aren't going to like." Clint looked Anastasia dead in the eye and she was shocked when she saw the painful honesty there. _This is about more than me and Talia, _she realized, _he's warning me because he's already been through this._ Barton swallowed and continued,

"But the important thing that you have to remember, the one thing you can _never _forget," Clint paused for half a breath, "is that there isn't a damn thing you can do about it." He swung his bow over his shoulder and swept out of the cabin, leaving a dark mood and his final words hanging like a shadow over Anastasia.

* * *

Natalia watched her SO with fascination that she wasn't even trying to hide. Natasha had nabbed Talia the minute they were in the air and dragged her off into the back rooms of the plane. Talia had followed, but naturally asked what they were doing. _Getting ready_ was the only response she had been able to draw from her mentor. Of course, all of her confusion fell away when they stepped into Natasha's quarters on the plane and Natasha stripped off her cat suit, leaving herself in a bra and underwear. _Thank god I recover from shock fast, _thought Natalia, _that could have been very weird._ The awkward moment had passed when Natasha opened the top drawer of her dresser, revealing an unrealistically large stash of weapons holsters. She had begun strapping them on, around her legs and her middle. She had quickly filled the holsters with their corresponding weapons, as large an array of knives and guns that she could manage. Then she disappeared for a few minutes into her closet, presumably picking out her clothes. Natalia contented herself with sitting on the edge of the bed and studying the room. As a result, she was woefully unprepared for Natasha to emerge in a mid thigh-length, sparkling gold dress that had no sleeves and a _very_ low cut v-neck. She gaped for a moment until Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Oh shut your mouth," she said, "I was sure I wasn't going to have to explain this bit to you."

"Oh you don't," confirmed Natalia, "I was just a bit…surprised, that's all." Natasha smirked.

"You should have seen Clint the first time I showed up for a mission in something….well let's just say it wasn't my tactical gear." She grinned at the memory.

"I'll bet," muttered Talia under her breath, mentally filing that tidbit away to talk over with Stasia later. The twins weren't completely oblivious and honestly you would have to be obsolete to not see the unresolved sexual tension that constantly hovered around Barton and Romanoff. Natasha had stepped over to her bathroom counter and picked up the curling iron that she had already pre-heated. Carefully, she pulled a strip of her naturally wavy hair away from the rest and began the tedious process of creating perfect curls. An hour later, Natalia was watching Natasha apply the final touches to her makeup, flawless, glossy curls framing her face. Natasha popped her lips after a final brush with the lipstick, and then she tossed the tube back into her makeup bag and spun to face Natalia.

"Alright, your turn." Natalia sputtered, taken by surprise for the second time that day.

"What do you mean 'my turn'?" The look Natasha graced her with could not have been more condescending-it was a look she usually reserved for Clint.

"I can't look like this," she gestured to herself, "and have my personal assistant look like that." She pointed at Natalia. "No offense, you dress fine. But this is a different world, a different class. Remember that." She placed a hand on her hip and used the other to point at the closet. "Now get inside." Obligingly, Natalia strode into the closet. She supposed it was small compared to what Natasha probably had back on base, but she marveled at the number of outfits inside. Natasha whirled in after Natalia and without hesitation went to a rack on the left and pulled a beautiful, but simple dress off the rack. She threw it at Natalia, who slipped it on without hesitation. It was light blue and hugged her chest, then fell from the waist in a straight, structured skirt. Natasha had started rummaging through the rows of shoes and in no time at all she had a pair of white heels in her hands. They were a simple design with a rounded toe, but they spiked up in the back with at least a four inch heel. Natalia didn't even flinch at that. _I've seen higher, _she thought, smirking to herself. She slid the heels on, comfortably adjusting to the height change. All of a sudden she realized that Natasha wasn't in the closet anymore. Stepping outside, she saw her mentor back in the bathroom, plugging in a flat iron. Natalia groaned internally-she loved her wavy hair. Natasha saw the groan out of the corner of her eye and grinned. She wasn't all that fond of straight hair herself, but sometimes it _was _useful, so she always kept a flat iron around. She left the tool heating on the counter and went over to her jewelry chest. She carefully lifted the lid and began sifting through the different accessories that she had. She pulled out a pair of small gold hoops and a strand of small pearls. She gave them to Natalia, who had come to stand next to her. The girl took them without question and put them on. Natasha gave her a once over.

"Make-up," she said decisively. Natalia groaned again. "You are the least girly girl I have ever met," Natasha told her. Natalia rolled her eyes.

"That's only because you haven't tried to put make-up on my sister." Natasha chuckled at that and then full on laughed at Natalia's face when she saw the make-up kit.

"Better get used to this, rookie." Natasha grinned, "You're gonna be on lots of missions like these with me as your SO." Natalia gave her a we'll-see-about-that look and obediently, if reluctantly, sat down on the stool that Natasha was pointing at. Talia did her best to hold still while Natasha buffed and shined her face into absolute perfection. Mercifully, her mentor kept it simple and finished her off with just a touch of some sparkly eye shadow and light pink blush, followed by a smear of lip gloss. When Natasha spun Natalia in the direction of the mirror, the younger girl had to admit that, despite her aversion to make-up, she looked pretty good, definitely mature enough to be Natasha's personal assistant. Natasha on the other hand, didn't quite agree, because she was waiting for Natalia to finish her assessment, flat iron in hand. Sighing, Natalia handed Natasha the brush from the counter and let her drag it through her shoulder-length locks. After about fifteen minutes with the flat iron, Natalia was now facing a straight-haired version of herself. She thought that she didn't look _too_ awful, but her inner self shuddered at all the teenage girl stereotypes that she was following right now. Natasha looked her up and down and sort of jerked her head to the side noncommittally.

"You'll do," she said neutrally, but Natalia could tell by the small smile on Natasha's face as she turned away that her SO was proud of her creation.

* * *

Anastasia stared out of the cabin window, absently rubbing the same spot on her riser that she had been polishing for the last twenty minutes. She was starting to get antsy when the door to the back rooms slid open. She whipped her head around and her mouth fell open as Natalia and Natasha stepped into the cabin.

"Whoa…" she took a second to process what she was seeing, "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" Natalia grinned and struck a pose.

"Pretty good, isn't it?"

"It's not too shabby," Stasia replied teasingly. Natalia nodded to Anastasia's new clothes.

"You don't look half bad yourself." Anastasia blushed and looked down at the outfit that Barton had given her. _It's better suited to shooting,_ he had told her. She was wearing a fitted black shirt with sleeves that just barely capped her shoulders and long black leggings that disappeared into black, lace-up boots. She had tied her hair back in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face. Her quiver was tucked next to her on the chair and her bow was lying across her lap. She opened her mouth to reply to her sister, but Barton chose that moment to reenter the cabin. He stopped short and his eyes flickered over both Natasha and Natalia. Anastasia thought that she detected the slightest hint of resigned disapproval in his expression, but she might have been overreacting because of their earlier conversation. However, when Natasha stiffened under Barton's gaze, Stasia knew that her suspicions weren't a figment of her imagination. _There is definitely something more going on here,_ she thought, her eyes flicking between the two assassins. Natasha glared at Barton but said nothing and they both let it drop.

"We're about five minutes out," Barton informed them, "The pilot is going to drop Natasha and Natalia at this guy's office building so they can go up for their…meeting."

Natalia met Anastasia's eyes and they both knew that the other had picked up on Barton's disapproval of some of Natasha's methods. Stasia raised her eyebrows at her sister, who shrugged. _Later,_ Talia mouthed. Stasia sighed; whatever there was between their mentors would have to wait until after the mission.

"Then he'll fly us," Barton continued, gesturing to himself and Anastasia, "to some higher ground so that we can keep watch over the op. Sound good?" The three women nodded and Barton turned around and left the cabin again. Anastasia frowned after him.

"What's his problem?" she asked, still staring in the direction that her SO had gone. Natalia turned with a curious expression to hear Natasha's answer and Natasha sighed.

"Clint…he's not the biggest fan of how I obtain information. He thinks it connects me too much to my past, the very thing that he tried to save me from and it bothers him that I still do it." The twins exchanged a glance. _There is definitely more to it than that, _thought Natalia. Anastasia had a thoughtful expression on her face, contemplating something Natasha had said.

"The very thing that HE tried to save you from?" Stasia regurgitated Natasha's words and threw them back at her as a question. Natasha looked down at her watch.

"It's a story for another day," she said with forced cheerfulness, "Let's go." _In other words, we're gonna have to force the story out of her,_ thought Natalia, meeting her sister's eyes. _When we get back,_ returned Stasia. Natalia nodded and they both followed Natasha out to the loading bay.

* * *

_"__Hawkeye and T2 are in place." _Barton's voice crackled over the comms. Natalia was following a half step behind Natasha, keeping her head half-bowed, not quite hanging down, but not held high either. The pair of them approached the door to Ronzo Tech, which swung open automatically to greet them. A secretary looked up at them as they entered.

"Hello," Natasha offered the perfect this-is-a-waste-of-my-time American businesswoman smile to the secretary, "I have an appointment with Mr. Ronzo." The secretary glanced down at her schedule.

"Mrs. Rodgers?" Natasha rolled her eyes.

"_Miss_ Rodgers," she said, particularly emphasizing her non-marital status, "some women can make it without a man."

"Of course, my mistake, I will inform Mr. Ronzo of your arrival. The elevator is just to your left, stairs to your right if you prefer." The secretary picked up the phone, looking a little flustered with a blush spreading across her cheeks. Natasha spun on her heel without another word to the woman and headed in the direction of the elevator. Natalia followed close behind, keeping a tight hold on the folders in her arms. They stepped inside the elevator car and hit the button for the top floor. Natalia cast one last glance out of the big glass windows at the tall buildings across the street. She smiled to herself. _Stasia's up there somewhere._

* * *

_"__Black Widow and T1, approaching destination."_ Anastasia registered Romanoff's voice over the comms as Stasia watched Natasha and Natalia walking up the driveway to Ronzo's office. Barton was staring at the pair intently, watching every move they made and scanning the area around them for potential threats. Stasia mimicked his movements, crouching low on the rooftop, even though the early evening dusk covered them pretty well. Her bow was comforting in her hand, especially since Barton had helped her program some more helpful sequences into it, like explosive arrows. They heard Natasha and Natalia get into the elevator over the comms. Stasia let a breath out-_they're in, _she thought. Next to her though, the tension that had already claimed Barton simply increased. _Probably for the same reason, _speculated Anastasia. She heard an elevator ding over the comms and refocused on the mission. She and Barton watched their partners' progress, catching sight of them every time they walked past a window.

_"__Black Widow and T1, approaching target. Mission is a go."_ Natasha's voice sounded in Stasia's ear again. She felt her own muscles tense up again and she tried not to imagine everything that could possibly go wrong. _These two are the best S.H.I.E.L.D. has to offer, _she told herself, _everything is going to be fine._

* * *

Natalia trailed Natasha as they entered the office. Still keeping her head down, she looked at Ronzo from beneath her lashes. He was tall (as best she could tell while he was sitting down) and muscular, something she could tell even though he was wearing a nice suit shirt. He appeared to be a Mexican-American cultural mix and was sporting neatly trimmed black hair and brown eyes that were deceptively kind. _Or I just know that they're deceptive. _

_"_Hello Ms. Rodgers." Ronzo stood and extended his hand. Natasha grasped it firmly and granted him a smile, pretending not to notice the once over he gave her.

"Good evening," she replied. He glanced behind her at Natalia.

"And who's this?" He inquired.

"My assistant, Nora," said Natasha smoothly. Natalia nodded respectfully to the associate. Ronzo's eyes flitted back to Natasha, lingering over her.

"We'll it seems we have some things to...discuss." Ronzo gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"I don't suppose you have a place where Nora could set up her laptop?" Natasha batted her eyes sweetly, "She has a couple of paperwork details to sort out." _She is really laying it on thick, _thought Natalia.

"Of course," said Ronzo graciously, "there's a conference room just down the hall to the left."

"Thank you," murmured Natalia, ducking her head. She stepped out and the door swung shut behind her.

"_Okay T1, let's get this show on the road." _Natalia rolled her eyes as Barton spoke over the comms.

"Do get the option to change my code name?" She muttered as she pushed open the door to the conference room.

_"Just be glad you're not Thing 2." _Natalia smirked at Anastasia's words.

"_Alright T1, set up the laptop and get the drive plugged in." _

"I know the plan Hawkeye." Natalia set the laptop on the table and tapped a few keys before inserting the black thumb drive the Coulson had given them so that they could find and store the information they were after.

_"I'm sure you do," _retorted Barton, _"I'm sending T2 down to cover your position."_

"Got it." Natalia could just barely hear the sounds of her sister darting over the rooftops in the background of her comms. The computer in front of her beeped and Natalia refocused her attention on it. Whatever program Coulson had put on the drive was really effective; Natalia had no trouble following the tracks it laid for her and in seconds she had the files that they had come for.

"Hawkeye, I've got the files," she muttered, "How're things on Widow's end?" There were a few details that S.H.I.E.L.D. needed that Ronzo hadn't stored electronically and it was Natasha's objective to obtain those.

_"__Things are…moving along." _Neither twin missed the unmistakable tension in Barton's voice or the way the he sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. Natalia didn't reply; she pulled the laptop close and pretended to be diligently completing paperwork.

_"__C'mon Nat, hurry up and get out of there." _Clint slipped out of mission mode for a moment, forgetting to call Natasha by her code name. She didn't reply; couldn't obviously since she was in the same room as Ronzo, but the three others could all hear the slight rustling of clothes and the shifting of two bodies. Natalia didn't think much of it; she knew it was a means to an end, and that was all it was. However, she knew, even without seeing him, that if it were possible to hear grimaces and winces over comms, she would be drowning in the noise from Barton. _Someone needs to straighten him out on why his partner does what she does. _After an agonizing wait they finally heard Natasha's voice.

_"__Thank you, for your cooperation."_ At those words, Natalia slid the laptop and the thumb drive into her case and slung it over her shoulder. _Time to head home._ Talia blinked in surprise as the thought flitted through her mind. _When did I start thinking of S.H.I.E.L.D. as home?_

* * *

Stasia let out a long whoosh of breath that she had been holding and started back across the rooftops to meet up with Barton. She pretended to ignore the annoyance on her SO's face that clearly had to do with his partner, tucking it away for later discussion as they made their way back to the jet. _We have a ten hour flight back,_ she thought, _and they can't avoid us the whole time._ The car containing Natasha and Natalia pulled up and Anastasia ran to meet her sister, embracing her tightly.

"You okay?" she whispered. Natalia nodded, then looked at where Barton and Romanoff were standing, each glaring hard enough to scorch the other's face.

"I don't think they are," murmured Natalia. Stasia glanced over her shoulder at the standoff behind her.

"This is not normal behavior for partners," she said softly. Natalia shook her head.

"No, it's really not," she replied. Anastasia wrapped an arm around Talia's shoulders.

"Well, they know our life story," she said matter-of-factly, "So let's go find out theirs."


	8. Friends Make Secrets

"You need to get a handle on yourself Barton," hissed Natasha. She knew exactly what her partner was frustrated about but she didn't entirely understand _why. _Clint didn't respond; he maintained a steady glare in her direction.

"It's a tool, Clint," she insisted, "a means to an end-why is that a bad thing?"

"Because it shouldn't be the first _tool_ that you decide to use!" Barton finally burst out, "That's not right Natasha! Most agents use seduction as a _last resort_!"

"Well you should have figured out by now that I'm not _most agents,_" Natasha snapped. Barton sighed.

"I'm _worried_ Tasha," he said, "Don't think for a second that I can't see what this does to you-how it takes you back to the way it was before." Natasha stiffened at his words.

"Everything I do brings up my past Barton, I've gotten used to it." Clint shook his head.

"Not like this Natasha. Other things don't turn you back into a person that you don't want to be." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sometimes you can't be the person you want to be, Clint," she said quietly, "Sometimes that gets taken away from you and all you have left is the person that you are."

"Not anymore Tasha," Clint repeated an argument he had drilled into Natasha hundreds of times, "Here you can change the person the person that you are into the person that you want to be."

"I didn't say that I didn't _want _to change." Natasha's eyes pooled with darkness; they became mirrors to an even darker past, one that left her believing that she could never right her wrongs.

"If you didn't think that you _could _change Tasha, you wouldn't have come back with me." Barton held her eyes, staring into their emerald depths, matching their darkness with his own gaze. Before Natasha could respond they were interrupted by a small cough.

"So we were planning to chat about the past with you guys, but I'm guessing that you probably don't want us to get the story by eavesdropping on your argument, so maybe we should go inside." Natalia's light-hearted tone was a sharp contrast to the mood surrounding the two assassins. They both stared at her for a second, and then Natasha turned and stormed inside the plane, a muffled scream ripping through her teeth. Natalia exchanged a knowing glance with Stasia before quickly following her SO. Barton started to go after them, but Anastasia folded her arms and fixed him with a glare that stopped him in his tracks. He sighed internally.

_Why is it that all Russians can do that glare?_

"What happened to 'there isn't a damn thing you can do about it'?" She quoted his own words back at him, earning her a scowl from her SO.

"I didn't say anything about trying," Barton retorted. Stasia shrugged.

"Fair enough." Barton gave her a searching look.

"The story that the two of you are asking to hear, it's not a pretty one." Anastasia met his eyes steadily.

"You forget that we already know where Natasha came from. We don't expect it to be pretty." Clint shook his head.

"You only know where Natalia Alianova Romanova came from. You know nothing about Natasha," he told her. Anastasia didn't respond right away; instead taking a moment to study her mentor while she processed his words. There was brutal honesty in his eyes and a lifetime of pain written all over him. Anastasia had the feeling that there was a lot about her SO that she wasn't going to ever find out. Barton turned from her scrutiny and entered the plane. Stasia let him go this time, watching the empty space where he had stood even after he had retreated.

"Then let's go find out," she muttered to herself, joining everyone else on the plane.

* * *

Natalia followed Natasha through the cabin and back to the private quarters.

"You can't keep running Natasha," she called. Natasha spun around with murder in her eyes.

"I am not running," she spat at Talia, "But if you knew _anything_ you would not blame me if I did."

"But I don't know anything." Natalia stared her mentor down with a challenge in her eyes, "so if you ever want me to understand, you're going to have to explain it to me." Another muffled shriek slipped between Natasha's teeth as she turned from Talia, making as if to punch the wall, then thinking better of it.

"I can't talk about it; you will never understand," she said, the anger in her voice barely controlled, "even Clint doesn't know everything…doesn't understand how deep the madness is inside of me."

"We might never understand," conceded Talia softly, "but we won't ever have the chance if you don't let us try. Please Natasha." Natasha stared stoically at the young recruit in front of her, a thousand thought running through her head. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to speak, Natalia continued with what she had been going to say.

"Everyone has an orgin story. It's what makes you who you are. There might be days that you absolutely hate who you are and you blame your past for that. But you forget that there are days that are positively wonderful and that those are a result of who your past made you as well." Natalia broke off suddenly and swallowed thickly.

"My orgin story doesn't have any of those happy days," said Natasha hollowly, "I only get those afterwards and I know that they can't last very long. Nothing good ever does for me."

"That's not what Agent Barton thinks," said Anastasia, "You have to let someone in, Natasha," she finished quietly before turning and heading back out to the cabin. Natasha couldn't tear her gaze from Talia's disappearing form, mind and body frozen at the last words of the girl. Just like that, the anger melted from Natasha's muscles and she fought back the tears that threatened.

_I am strong. But maybe I need to do this._

She took a few minutes to pull herself back together, and then forced herself to turn away from her room and return to the main cabin.

* * *

"Our story…it's not one of a happenchance meeting and a perfect partnership," began Barton. The twins listened attentively, faces rapt with attention.

"The fact that we would meet, it was guaranteed long before we actually knew each other," he continued. He glanced over at Natasha and she nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You both know who the Black Widow used to be; the things that she did for the Red Room and for private contractors after she escaped. You know that she defected to the United States Government." Natasha paused, waiting for confirmation from the girls. They nodded and she continued.

"But something you don't know, something I'm sure you've asked, is _why?_ This was the Black Widow, for god's sake, the deadly assassin that no one can turn." Again the twins nodded and now Barton picked up the story.

"I've been at S.H.I.E.L.D. for about 15 years," he said, "Ten years ago, I received what might have been a routine assignment. It was an assassination and that was what I did; I took out those people whom S.H.I.E.L.D. deemed too dangerous to allow them to live. This particular target though, it was a bit personal. I was the third agent being sent after her." Barton grew quiet for a moment.

"She had killed the first two." He stopped again to allow that to sink in. The twins' eyes flicked between Barton and Romanoff, questions burning in their eyes while they processed what the two agents were telling them. Finally Natasha nodded.

"Agent Barton was sent to kill me," she said, "I was on a mission in New Mexico." Neither twin said a word, both utterly speechless at how they were even having this conversation. Natasha kept right on speaking, not giving them a chance to interject.

"I should, by all rights, be dead. I should be in New Mexico with an arrow in my heart."

"But if you were," said Clint quietly, "S.H.I.E.L.D. would be down one fine agent." It was a not-so-subtle reminder and Natasha nodded slowly. Anastasia finally managed to break out of her voiceless state.

"What happened?" she asked rather incredulously. Clint and Natasha exchanged a glance.

"Without going into too much detail," said Barton, "we fought and I won. I had an arrow aimed at her chest and I gave her a choice. Come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. with me or die on that rooftop. I think you know what she chose." The twins nodded. They both wanted to ask for the deeper explanation that Barton had clearly avoided, but both Clint and Natasha's eyes warned against it; that was evidently a story for another day.

"So I came back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and they took me and we've built up a partnership that sparks legends and rumors in every S.H.I.E.L.D. affiliated facility." Natasha's eyes sparkled with humor at the last bit. Natalia raised an eyebrow at her SO.

"They just let you in? Just like that? Someone they had ordered a hit on?" Barton rolled his eyes.

"Believe me, I went through hell and back with Fury and that is _not_ something I wish to repeat," he said, wincing at the memory.

"I'm having a hard time believing that they would just let _the Black Widow_ join up," said Stasia. Natasha sighed.

"Coulson," she told them, "Coulson vouched for me and backed Clint. He got Fury to give us long enough for me to prove myself. I guess I did because I'm still here and Fury hasn't said a thing about it to me since." Understanding washed over the girls as they came to comprehend Barton and Romanoff's close relationship with their handler.

"So here we are," said Clint, "five years later and we've managed not to kill each other."

"Not that it didn't come close," muttered Natasha. Barton grinned at her. Natalia was biting her lip, looking like she was debating whether or not her next question was a wise one. Natasha sighed.

"Spit it out, Маленькая красная."

"Why did you do it?" She didn't direct her question at either agent specifically; she didn't really care who answered it. Natasha's eyes darkened and her jaw tightened.

_Guess I'm not getting anything out of her._

"Everyone asks that," Barton answered, knowing perfectly well that his partner wouldn't say a word, "but it's not something we can explain to you. I hope to god that you're never in that kind of a position, mine or Natasha's. It's...not something you come out of in one piece."

Natalia nodded and a sudden silence cloaked the room. None of them were quite sure how to break it, but as it turned out, they didn't have to.

_*cough*_

_*cough, cough*_

_*COUGHCOUGHCOUGH*_

Natalia's head whipped towards her sister as Anastasia dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Stasia!" She flew to her sister's side and began patting her down. "Have you taken your medication today?"

"Medication?" Barton exchanged a puzzled look with his partner, "Anastasia doesn't have any medication."

Natalia barely spared enough energy to shoot Barton a murderous glare.

"How long did it take _you_ to give S.H.I.E.L.D. all of your medical information, Agent Barton?" She spat the words at him and followed them up with a growl. Clint grimaced; he _still_ hadn't given all of his medical details to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Dammit, Stasia! Why don't you have it?!"

Anastasia looked up at her sister with glassy eyes that were mostly vacant.

"Hair-_cough_-pin," she wheezed out, letting her neck snap backwards while she drifted into unconsciousness. Natalia tore the pin from Anastasia's neatly twisted braid and jabbed it into her neck without hesitation. The latter went limp and all outward signs of breathing ceased. Natalia fell back into a sitting position, relief flooding her figure.

"What the hell?!" Barton was staring at the twins with anger all over her face. "Why do you look so happy-_your sister isn't breathing_!" He started to move towards Anastasia; to shake her and wake her up.

"Barton, don't." Natasha's voice froze Clint in his tracks.

"_Natasha_, she is going to _die_!" He spun angrily and found his partner staring at Anastasia, looking as though she had just seen a ghost. All of his frustration drained at the look on Natasha's face.

"Tasha?"

"When?" Natasha ignored Barton, speaking directly to Natalia.

"We were six," said Natalia, "There was this little dog and they told me…they said I had to…" She swallowed thickly.

"They made you kill it," said Natasha quietly. Natalia nodded.

"Except I wouldn't, not at first. But then they took her and…" Natalia trailed off, lost in painful memories.

"And did what?" Barton looked between the three women with wild eyes.

"They made it so that the very thing that was keeping her alive would also kill her," said Natasha, staring with a completely stoic face at Anastasia. Barton knew that face and it was the one mask that scared him the most when his partner wore it, because he knew that the more emotions flooded her body, the further Natasha would draw into herself.

"What does that mean?" he asked, still not understanding.

"She's allergic," said Natalia softly.

"To what?!" Barton was just frustrated now. Natasha and Natalia looked at each other, and then both turned to the one man in the group.

"To oxygen," they whispered in unison.

Barton stopped moving all together and very slowly turned to look at the two females.

"_What?!_" He stared incredulously at them, "That's not even possible-she would have died before she even got to live if that were true!"

"That would be right, if it were a natural allergy," said Natasha, gently walking Barton to the conclusion that she had already reached, "Think about it Clint…"

Barton cast his mind back on Natalia and Natasha's conversation from a few moments ago.

_When?_

_We were six…_

**_They_** _told me…__**They**__ said I had to…_

**_They _**_made you kill it._

**_They_**_ took her…_

**_They_**_ made it so that the very thing that was keeping her alive would also kill her._

**_They._**

"That's just sick!" spat Barton, shaking with rage as the truth of Anastasia's condition settled in. Natalia stared at him blankly; this was nothing new to her, she had had ten years for the awfulness to sink in. Natasha felt old scars opening, deep wounds starting to bleed again but she kept her face in a very careful disguise.

"How is she even alive?" Barton managed to finally calm down enough to ask a coherent question.

"There is…medication that reverses the harmful effects oxygen has on her modified system without negating the positive uses that keep her alive. She's supposed to take it every day, but apparently she left it behind and didn't bother to tell me." Natalia seethed at the end of her sentence.

"How has she survived this long without it?" asked Natasha, "It's been more than a day since we left base."

"She can go up to two, two and a half days without it, if she has to, but it's better if she doesn't."

"What did you do to her?" asked Clint, watching the motionless body of his trainee.

"I injected her with a chemical that allows her to live a few hours without oxygen, but to do so she has to remain in a catatonic state," said Natalia, "If she doesn't get her medication within three hours all of her major organs will fail. Then it's just a race to see what kills her first-the organ failure or the oxygen deprivation." Bitterness tinged Talia's every word.

"Barton go take over for the pilot." They both knew that Barton could fly twice as fast as any S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot and Natasha's tone left no room for protest. Clint stood quickly and exited the cabin.

"Make her comfortable; stay with her."

Natasha cast one last glance at Anastasia's immobile shell and shuddered with the effort of repressing haunting memories. Natalia watched as her mentor fled the cabin, seeking sanctuary from her own mind.

* * *

Natasha thanked a god she didn't believe in that she made it back to her room before the breakdown hit. No one else in their little team knew the full extent of her madness; not even Clint. She locked the door with the last of her strength, then fell to her knees as the memories washed over her.

_...Twelve young girls, full of promise are standing in a line. One by one they are pulled into a room and one by one they straggle out, each missing something they had when they went in. Girls come out with burned faces, missing fingers, and mutilated bodies. One girl emerges looking perfectly normal. She takes a deep breath and smiles at the last girl who was waiting to go in. Natalia watches with an impassive mask as the girl fills her lungs and then begins to cough. The girl, a year or two younger than Natalia, falls to the floor and spasms, choking on her own breath. Natalia stares stoically at the girl's body and then raises her head and enters the room..._

"Natasha!" Barton pounded on the door to his partner's room. "Dammit Tasha, open the door!" Barton growled in frustration when no response came from the other side. He took a step back and kicked high, breaking open the door and storming into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a click and felt a cool metal barrel against his neck.

"Tasha..." Barton held his hands out so that she could clearly see that he was unarmed. The metal disappeared from his skin and Barton spun around, catching Natasha before she could crumple to the ground. Her eyes were still vacant ad Barton realized that she wasn't seeing what was in front of her; her body had reacted on instinct when he broke open her door. He carried her over to the bed and laid her down as gently as he could. He knew Natasha hated it when other people saw her in moments of weakness.

_She's going to be pissed when she wakes up._

Barton sighed and ran a hand over his face. Exhaustion was apparent in every facet of his body. He turned to leave, to return to his station in the cockpit when a whimper echoed from behind him. Barton spun back around as a small shriek ripped through Natasha's teeth.

"No, don't-" The red-haired assassin was shaking uncontrollably, trapped in whatever nightmare she was reliving.

_To hell with flying; Marks can manage and we'll get to base when we get there._

Barton moved back over to the bed and gently secured Natasha in the circle of his arms.

"Shhh, Tasha, its okay, I've got you, you're safe, shhh..."

He rubbed comforting circles into her back and held her until she stilled and her breathing evened out.

_That's it Tasha, you get some rest._

Despite all of his exhaustion, Barton kept his eyes open, watching over the sleeping figure of his partner.

_Some things are more important than sleep._

* * *

Natalia sat on the couch with Anastasia's head in her lap. Although not by much, Natalia was the older sister and often times it seemed like more than two minutes separated the two of them. Anastasia liked to be reckless and do things that could get her into trouble and more often than not Natalia was the one to pull her out of those situations.

_I should have made sure that she had her meds._

She knew that she shouldn't blame herself; after all, Anastasia was just as old as she was and the former knew how to take care of herself, but Natalia would blame herself anyway. The sense of responsibility for starting them on their new life had always weighed heavier on Talia than on Stasia and over time the sense of general responsibility had made the same shift.

_Not that Anastasia doesn't have moments where she mothers me._

Talia smiled to herself and ran her fingers through her sister's hair. She had pulled the braid out entirely because combing each other's hair was one of the most relaxing things that either of them could do and on really stressful days they would just sit next to each other and work their fingers through each other's tangled locks. Softly, Natalia began to sing, a bilingual lullaby that their mother had sung to them when they were very, very young; so young that Natalia was surprised that she remembered it at all, back before everything went wrong. The notes floated through the cabin and the lyrics came to Natalia as if she had just heard the lullaby yesterday:

_~Where the dreamy Volga flows  
There's a lonely Russian rose  
Gazing tenderly  
Down upon her knee  
Where a baby's brown eyes glisten  
Listen_

_Ev'ry night you'll hear her croon  
a Russian lullaby_

_Just a little plaintive tune  
When her baby starts to cry_

_Rock-a-bye my baby  
Somewhere there may be_

_A land that's free for you and me  
And a Russian lullaby~_

_Где мечтательные потоки Волга  
Там в одиноко России роза  
Глядя нежно  
Вниз по колено  
Где карие глаза ребенка блестят  
слушать _

___Ev'ry ночь вы услышите ее напевают  
Русский колыбельная_

_Просто немного жалобный мотив  
Когда ее ребенок начинает плакать _

___Рок-бай мой ребенок  
Где-то там может быть_

_Земля, которая бесплатно для вас и меня  
И русская колыбельная~_

"It's going to be just fine Stasia," Natalia whispered, pressing her lips to her sister's head, "We won't have to worry anymore. Everything is going to be alright."

If only Natalia could be certain that the words she was saying were true.


	9. Some Kinda Good

**A/N: Quick shout out to my friend ****_Agent Romanov_**** for helping me with some of the details for this chapter :-) Sorry about the wait for an update, but here's some for you all to enjoy!**

* * *

Coulson paced back and forth on the landing strip, wringing his hands. Behind him were four nurses and a stretcher, the medical team that Barton had requested in his brief dispatch.

Which was basically the entire reason for Coulson' worry. Because unless someone was dying, Barton and Romanoff didn't request medical teams.

A new wave of anxiety washed over Coulson and his forehead folded into creases. The woman behind him shot him a concerned look.

"Calm down Coulson, I'm sure they're fine."

Coulson rounded on Maria Hill. "Fine? I don't think so Maria. If they were fine, they wouldn't need a _medical team._ Hell, even if they weren't fine, they wouldn't need a medical team. This has to be _way_ past fine for them to even _think_ about requesting a medical team."

He broke off breathing heavily. Hill shook her head.

"That's not what I meant. I mean, Barton and Romanoff are probably fine. I think the med team is for one of the twins."

Coulson pursed his lips. "Even if it is, the situation is probably still fatal. Barton knows full well that if a trainee is injured their SO has to go to Medical with them, so one of them is going to end up in Medical and they wouldn't risk that unless…"

He trailed off as a roar filled the sky and the S.H.I.E.L.D. jet came into view. Coulson tensed and the medical team assumed a ready stance as the jet started its descent. The wheels dropped out and the plane touched down. Coulson, Hill, and the nurses ran to meet it as it taxied down the runway. Before the aircraft had stopped moving the cabin door had been flung open and one of the twins was out. Whichever one it was-Coulson couldn't tell-took off running like her life depended on it. She flew past the little greeting party, cold determination written on her face. A few seconds after she came out the next figure emerged. Coulson breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Barton, walking on his own two feet, only to tense with worry when he saw the young redhead in the agent's arms.

"Told you it was a twin," muttered Hill. Coulson didn't bother with sending her a withering glance. He stared anxiously at the cabin door, only relaxing when Natasha finally emerged. Barton made it over to the med team and laid the twin on the stretcher.

"Take her to Medical. Whatever you do _don't _wake her up, I don't care a damn bit what the doctors say. The only thing you are allowed to do is make her comfortable until her sister gets there. When her sister gets there you let her do whatever the hell she feels she needs to. Got that?"

He glared threateningly at each nurse until they nodded, then he released his grip on the twin and let them roll her away as quickly as they could without disturbing her. Barton turned to face his handler, Romanoff coming to stand next to him. Coulson stared after the med team for a few seconds, and then spun back to his agents.

"What the hell happened?"

"The mission went fine," said Natasha, interjecting before Barton could speak and directing her statement to Hill, "we got in, we got the info, and we got out. Standard procedure. This happened on the plane ride back."

"And what exactly _is_ this?" asked Coulson through gritted teeth.

"Anastasia had an allergic reaction after we returned to the plane." Barton kept his voice calm and even, not letting his frustration and worry for his protégée slip through.

"She doesn't have any allergies on file."

Natasha sent Coulson a _look_. "Really Coulson, after you've been my handler for however long and with what you know of her past, do you _really _think that she shared everything with us? That either of them did?"

Coulson jerked his head to the side, conceding slightly. "So what's she allergic to and why does she still need medical? Shouldn't she have taken care of whatever it is en route?"

Barton and Romanoff both hesitated, and Barton finally said, "She didn't have the right medication with her, but that's all I'm going to say. If she wants to tell you when she wakes up, that's fine Coulson. But I'm not telling you, and I don't think Natasha is either. Sorry."

Coulson's eyes hardened. "Why is this such a big deal? It's just an allergy, it's nothing _bad_-"

"Trust me Coulson, with people like us, anything is bad." Natasha cut their handler off. "Now we really need to go, since we're both going to be required in Medical shortly."

Both agents pushed past Coulson and Hill and started off at a very quick pace, making their way to the one place at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ that they normally avoided like the plague. Coulson shook his head at both of their retreating figures and then he looked at Hill, smiling wryly.

"I think that this might be the only time they've been in a hurry to get to Medical."

* * *

Natalia didn't think as she flew across the tarmac. She zoned her vision in on her sole goal: the door that would take her inside S.H.I.E.L.D. She didn't register the gaggle of people watching the plane land; they weren't even remotely important to her in the big scheme of things. Talia reached the door and roughly pulled it open, darting inside. She was already down the hall by the time it slammed shut behind her. The halls were fairly crowded, but apparently her status as the Black Widow's trainee granted her the same courtesy that her SO received. Whatever it was, when the agents saw her coming, they got out of her way like they were going to die if they didn't.

Of course, given the circumstances, there was a chance that they might.

Blessedly, this meant that Natalia was able to get to Stasia's dorm in record time. She didn't bother with the key; instead she launched a solid kick at the door and splintered the wood around the lock. Rushing inside, she saw exactly what she was looking for lying on the dresser: the injector. Snatching it up she spun around and fled the room, dashing as fast as she possibly could in the direction of Medical.

* * *

When she reached the automatic glass doors, Natalia saw a long line of doctors and nurses who were glancing between the door and a room down the hall. One of them saw Talia through the doors and gave a shout. The sea of white coats parted and Natalia sprinted through them into the room. Her sister was lying on the bed, looking pale and very weak. Talia choked back a sob; it had been years since she had seen her sister like this. The medical staff that was attending Stasia stepped back as Natalia entered the room, but as soon as they did, Stasia's body jerked and her heart rate monitor jumped from a flatline to erratic beeping. Panic ripped through Natalia, tearing her in half.

_NO! I am not too late!_

A small part of her registered Barton and Romanoff running up to the room and gasping in shock at what was happening to Anastasia. If she had been able to look at the two senior agents, Natalia would have found genuine fear in their eyes. The panic vanished from her system, replaced by a fierce protective instinct and fiery determination. She hit a button on the injector and waited, heart pounding as she watched her sister start to die in front of her eyes. Talia focused on her breathing as the device in her hand started to grow warm.

_This isn't the first time Natalia. You are strong. She needs you to be able to do this, so you are going to do it._

She took another deep breath in through her nose; the injector was reaching peak temperature and rapidly becoming too hot to hold. She tried with everything in her not to notice the panicked motions of the medical staff or the fear that was on Barton and Romanoff's faces. Talia stepped forward to stand right next to her sister. The injector turned hot enough to blister Natalia's hand just as Anastasia opened her mouth to take a breath of oxygen that would be fatal. Fear spiked in her heart and Talia jabbed the injector into her sister's neck with as much force as she could muster. Stasia breathed in…

And didn't cough.

Natalia sagged with relief, feeling her legs give out from under her. She collapsed to the floor, reassured by the rapidly steadying beeping from her sister's heart monitor. The doctors in the room were watching her, fascinated by what they had just seen. They obviously had some questions, but before they could even start they found themselves face-to-face with one of their worst nightmares: Agent Clint Barton. He glared at them with folded arms, daring them to harass either twin while Natasha slipped past him and gathered Natalia into her arms. She started to move toward the door when she felt a weak resistance in her arms.

"No…I have to…stay…" muttered Natalia. Natasha stopped walking and sent a pointed look to Barton, who in turn looked at the doctors and basically told them to get out.

Needless to say, they listened.

Romanoff gently lay Natalia down on the bed next to Stasia and the former instinctively curled around her sister. Barton locked the door behind the doctors and pulled the blinds down to give the four of them some relative privacy. He dragged the sort of comfortable arm chair over next to the bed and sat in it, assuming a position he had held many times before at the bedside of his own partner. Carefully, he reached up and took one of Stasia's hands in his own and began lightly tracing shapes on her skin. Natasha read the worry in his eyes without any difficulty.

"Natalia, how long before she wakes up?" she asked softly.

Natalia blinked and turned to look at her SO. "Could be anywhere from a couple minutes to a couple hours," she replied. Natasha nodded and perched herself on the edge of the bed, curling into a tiny ball. Barton just stared at his trainee and they both settled in to wait it out.

* * *

Three hours later found Romanoff staring at the plants outside the hospital room window and Barton lying his head down on the side of the bed, eyes still trained on Stasia. Both of them were exhausted, but neither was willing to go to sleep until they were absolutely sure that Anastasia was okay. Natalia was still curled around her sister but had long ago drifted off into unconsciousness.

"Natalia…?" A dry, rough voice cut through the silence. Barton lifted his head off of the mattress and Natasha spun around, reacting to the name purely on instinct.

"I'm her-" she paused when she realized what she was saying and she swallowed before correcting herself. "She's right here Anastasia."

Barton shot his partner a concerned look; it wasn't often that Natasha relapsed and started thinking of herself as Natalia again. She shook her head at him and they both turned their attention to the twins.

The sound of their voices had effectively jerked Natalia from her uneasy sleep and the girl propped herself up on one elbow.

"Stasia?"

Anastasia turned her head so that her sister could see her open eyes.

"Hey," she said casually, as if she hadn't almost died. Natalia wrapped her arms tightly around Stasia's neck and squeezed her tightly, tears pricking her eyes when she felt Stasia wrap her arms around her waist and return the hug. Talia pulled back and glared harshly at her sister, the annoyance with her starting to filter through the relief. Before her actions completely registered, Natalia drew back a hand and smacked her sister clean across the cheek. The slap made a loud cracking noise and Stasia winced, but didn't protest.

"I suppose I deserved that," she admitted.

"You bet you did." Natalia glowered down at her. "Why in the world didn't you _tell_ me that you left your meds here?!"

"It wasn't like you could do anything about it Talia."

"For all you know, I keep an extra dosage in my pocket." Stasia rolled her eyes at Talia's suggestion.

"I know full well that you don't do that because we only have one injector."

"Whatever." Natalia fixed her sister with a serious scowl. "Next time, which there won't be one, but if there ever is, for _anything_, you better _tell_ me. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," muttered Stasia, huffing a little at Talia's mothering.

"She's not the only one you're going to tell." Barton finally spoke, injecting himself into the conversation. Both twins turned to look at him. Anastasia kind of frowned, a puzzled look crossing her face.

"What?" asked Barton, "Do I have something on my face?"

"No, it's just…." Stasia bit her lip, hesitating over her words, "well, I guess…why are you two still here?"

Barton looked surprised, and a tiny bit insulted. "You think we would just abandon you two to the medical staff?"

Natasha snorted at that and the twins glanced over at her before looking back at Barton.

"No it's just…" Natalia bit her lip, "well, don't you guys have other, more important things to be doing than sitting in a hospital room for three hours?"

"No." Clint didn't elaborate on his statement; he just let it hang in the air with all the implications that accompanied it. Anastasia wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"But didn't you guys want to go sleep or something?"

"When one of us is injured, we don't sleep." Natasha responded to the girls this time. "Not until we know that they are absolutely okay."

"Well yeah that makes sense, you guys are partners." Natalia looked between the two mentors. "But neither one of you was injured so…"

Barton and Romanoff didn't reply; they just stared at the twins, waiting for them to catch on. Finally they both drew in sharp breaths.

"Oh," they said together and they met each other's eyes.

_We're part of the 'us'._

Tears pricked both girl's eyes again, but they both forced them back. It was a strange sensation, like being a part of a family again.

_What did we do to deserve this?_ thought Talia. _To deserve another chance to be happy?_

Stasia squeezed her hand and looked up at Natasha.

"Спасибо, сестра." _(Thank you, sister)_

Natasha froze at the girl's choice of words. She blinked rapidly and looked at both of them. She kept her face neutral but inside a raging turmoil broke out.

_What is happening to me? How can they do this to me?_

She managed a slight nod and she turned to go, needing an escape from the emotion of the moment. Her hand lightly brushed Barton's shoulder and then she was gone. Barton watched the empty doorway for a moment, then looked back at the twins.

"What did you call her?"

They regarded him for a second, but they didn't answer his question. Instead, Anastasia turned toward her sister and grinned.

"Вы знаете, если она наша сестра, то он полностью наш брат-в-законе." _(You know, if she's our sister, then he's totally our brother in law.)_

Natalia snorted, lacing her fingers through Stasia's.

"Вы лучше не давайте Наташа слышу, вы говорите, что." _(You better not let Natasha hear you say that.)_

Anastasia chuckled and Clint groaned, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I hate it when you all talk in Russian?"

The twins smiled angelically at him and he rolled his eyes.

"Well, whatever you said, I'm glad you're awake. Now I'm going to go get some sleep. You two have fun." And with that, Barton exited the room.

"You scared me," whispered Talia after a few seconds of silence.

"I'm sorry," Stasia whispered back. She leaned her head against Talia's arm, waiting for the other girl to say something. When Natalia didn't oblige, Stasia broke the silence again.

"Do you think we should tell them about….the other thing?"

"No." Natalia's voice was firm and dark. "We swore we would never tell a soul; even these two won't change that."

Stasia nodded, her cheek rubbing against the sheets. A huge yawn split her head in two and Natalia smiled softly.

"Get some rest, Stasia. The world will be waiting when you wake up."

Anastasia smiled sleepily and closed her eyes, laying her head back down on the pillow.

Natalia watched her sister drift off and she relaxed next to her, still much in need of sleep herself. She floated slowly toward unconsciousness, her last words to her sister echoing in her mind.

_The world will be waiting…_

* * *

Sleep had never come easy to Natasha, at least not when she was alone, so she wasn't surprised to find herself tossing and turning that night. Around two in the morning she finally gave up on any notion of sleep and rolled out of bed, intending to hit the training room for a bit. Dressed in workout gear, she made her way down the hall. Once she reached the end, Natasha hesitated, deliberating for a moment. Finally, she turned left, away from the training room, but toward Medical.

_I'm just checking up on them._

That was perfectly natural, wasn't it? She was Natalia's SO; it only made sense that Natasha should want to make sure that Natalia was doing okay and obviously Natalia would be with Anastasia, so Natasha might as well check up on her as well.

_It only makes sense._

At least, that was what Natasha told herself as she walked stealthily down the hallway to the entrance to Medical. The agent on duty, some level one or two operative that Natasha didn't know, nodded to her as she walked in, not questioning why she was visiting Medical at two in the morning; most young agents had learned by now no to question the Black Widow, or her partner for that matter, on anything they did. They always had a reason. It might not necessarily be a good one, but they always had one.

Natasha crept up to the door to the twin's room and silently entered. Natalia was curled up against Stasia's back and both were sleeping deeply, Stasia's even breaths being marked by the constant beep of her heart monitor. Natasha slipped up alongside the bed and gazed down at the girl's peaceful faces, so full of youth and just life. She reached out and gently brushed a piece of hair back from Natalia's forehead, careful not to disturb the girl while she tucked it behind her ear. The silence was comfortable in the room as Natasha stared down at the twins. She had been trying with little success to avoid thinking about what Anastasia had called her earlier and, more importantly, _why_ she had called her that.

Сестра_._

_Sister._

_Why?_

Natasha implored the question at the sleeping girls in front of her, as if she could drag an answer from their unconscious bodies.

_You were raised to hate me…how can you be…whatever this is that you are?_

Natasha shook her head and lowered her face into her hands.

_But most of all, how can you both do…whatever it is you're doing to me? It's never like this, not with anyone. Why do you both make me…make me feel?_

"Tasha?"

Natasha looked up to where the voice came from, her eyes going to the air vent out of habit. She could just make out Barton's face between the slats of metal.

"Barton."

"You know they aren't going to wake up just because you're here staring at them," he whispered, "trust me; I've been trying it all night."

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned her focus back to the twins. "What if I don't want them to wake up?"

"Well then, I promise not to spread rumors about your liking to stare at sleeping children."

"You're damn lucky that I can't shoot you Barton." Natasha glared daggers at the ceiling.

"You wouldn't shoot me, Tasha."

"Try me. Why've you been here all night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Natasha nodded; she had figured as much. The two of them lapsed back into silence for a few minutes, both of them keeping watch over their protégés.

"I think they're going to be okay," Clint finally whispered, "you wanna go….somewhere else?"

A wrinkle passed for a fleeting moment over Natasha's nose while she contemplated Clint's words. She sent a glance out at the reception area and then looked back at the twins. They would probably be okay with just each other for company; they had survived long enough that way. She hadn't gotten the answers that she came for, but she knew that odds were she never would. Sighing she nodded slightly, knowing Clint was watching her and the slight shifting of the air vent cover confirmed it. She stood and walked over so that she was standing right underneath the opening in the ceiling. Natasha sent one last glance at the girls and then stomped down on her confusion and questions, locking them tightly away. She reached up and jumped, grabbing onto Clint in a move they had done many times before and pulling herself into the air vents. Barton smiled at her and she just rolled her eyes.

"Lead the way, bird boy."

Barton stuck his tongue out at her before turning and heading off to the left and Natasha smirked. Both agents kept their minds in the present moment; trying with all their might not to think of their two trainees lying back in Medical and the path that all four of them were heading down.

A path that was rapidly being defined by two blond twins who were worming their ways into the stone cold hearts of a couple of master assassins.


End file.
